


he was a boy, she was a girl (can I make it anymore obvious?)

by brazilianchild



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Childhood Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, TW: mentions of sexual assault and abuse, Theon and the other Starks are in a band, a lot of sk8er boi references, arya and sansa have the cutest of friendships, ballerina!Sansa, incorrect court procedures but I TRIED, literally SM PINING, not one but TWO background weddings hehe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23267482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brazilianchild/pseuds/brazilianchild
Summary: Because here he was: Theon Greyjoy, the boy covered in bruises who liked punk rock and was a skater boy and smoked way too much weed and wanted to be in a band and helped her with her Pre-Calculus homework and spilled mud on her dress as a child and teased her in a way that could even be called flirting and he had brought her a rose and lemon cakes and was looking at her like he wanted to kiss her and made her realize that maybe she didn’t want a fictional prince after all but a real boy with real issues and maybe she just wanted him, Theon Greyjoy.But he was also Theon Greyjoy, her brother’s best friend and she was a ballerina who had to focus on pirouettes and dance routines and not pretty boys who rode skateboards.____or Sansa is a ballerina and Theon is in a rock band
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Grey Worm/Missandei, Jojen Reed/Bran Stark, Jon Snow/Ygritte, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark, Yara Greyjoy/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 28
Kudos: 166





	he was a boy, she was a girl (can I make it anymore obvious?)

**Author's Note:**

> First off, this is 100% inspired by Sk8er Boi by Avril Lavigne and if you haven't listened to it GO LISTEN TO IT NOW (and also where were you in the 2000s? Under a rock?)
> 
> This took an obscene amount of time to write. I had 30 pages written and then I was like "nah" and scrapped most of it. The quarantine is what finally gave me the motivation to finish and now after so much research and time it's finally done!
> 
> I do want to give a final warning that there will be mentions of sexual assault and abuse. If you feel in any way uncomfortable I suggest you don't read it. It won't be too heavy but there will be mentions of it.
> 
> Special thanks to Maria and Lilia for helping out in writing this.
> 
> I made playlist for this fic if you guys want to listen to it. It won't let me embed the link so just copy paste this link to your browser and it should work: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/639DQdjUevbUNBWmLFzwgw?si=kv991tW1Sr2O5r6n64AsOQ
> 
> I also hyperlinked in some songs for Sansa's dances. It's mostly just two of my favorite Tchaikovsky pieces that I put together to make the ballet for "Robert's Rebellion". THEY'RE BOTH SO BEAUTIFUL I COULND'T HELP MYSELF.
> 
> Anyways, I poured my heart and soul into this and I hope you guys like it!

Sansa took a deep breath and looked up at herself in the dance room mirror. She went into pointe and looked at her posture. 

_Perfect._

She focused on the music playing waiting for her cue.

Three.

Two.

One.

She turned to the right and completed a _d_ _étourné,_ with her right foot now behind her. She took three steps then jumped, her two legs splitting in the air. Sansa fell back onto the ground, lightly.

She had barely made a sound but she could still hear her mum’s voice chastising her in her mind.

_Again. You were delayed and too heavy. Do it again._

She dropped back onto her heels with a sigh, not bothering to complete the rest of her routine. 

She rolled her neck and walked over to check her phone. _Fuck._ It was past eleven and she had over 10 messages from Robb, two from her Dad and two from Arya (which was a lot considering). 

**Robb** : where are you?

 **Robb** : nvm mum told me that you wanted to get some practice in

 **Robb** : are you having dinner at home?

 **Robb:** sansa

 **Robb:** sansa

 **Robb:** sansa

 **Robb:** I’m assuming that’s a no

 **Robb** : it’s friday sans you better not still be at the studio

 **Robb:** this is not why mum gave you the extra key

 **Robb:** it’s getting late and if you’re not sneaking out getting drunk like you’re supposed to I’ll be very disappointed

 **Robb:** text me if you need a ride

**Dad** : sansa

 **Dad** : when are you coming home?

**Arya:** you alive?

 **Arya:** i’m only asking because I didn’t think you were capable of staying out of the house past 8. I’m impressed.

Sansa gave a huff of laughter at her sister’s message. She was right. She never stayed out late because practice was usually so taxing that she went to sleep as soon as she finished her school work. But her recital was only three weeks away and she had to be perfect. 

_Cersei Lannister_ was going to be there. She was not only coming to watch (which was an honor in itself) but she was also going to choose a couple of the students for her dance school in King’s Landing. Going to Lion’s Academy for ballet was Sansa’s dream ever since she could remember. 

She was seven years old when she had written her plan all out. First, she would get into the academy. Second, she would go to King’s Landing and do so well that Cersei would sign her directly to the Royal Company of Ballet in King’s Landing. Third, she would become one of the youngest principal dancers ever and spend the rest of her life in the warm south with her southron husband.

She had even written it out in her special pink paper with her blue glitter pen. It was the only thing she ever wanted.

And she would do anything to accomplish that, even stay a lot later than usual running a routine that was already ingrained in her bones.

She quickly typed out a response to Arya. 

**Sansa** : yes im alive. but don’t be too impressed, i’m still at mum’s studio

She quickly replied to Robb as well. 

**Sansa:** By the Gods, and you say I’m a drama queen

 **Sansa** : sorry to disappoint but i’m not passed out in a ditch. i’m still at the studio

 **Sansa** : mind giving me a ride?

She wasn’t surprised when the three dots appeared almost immediately. Robb was always a fast texter. 

**Robb:** on my way

She smiled and texted her father to tell him she was already on her way. 

Sansa changed into her Ugg’s, her feet basically sighing at the feel of them. She pulled on a sweater and locked the building behind her as she left to go meet her brother in the parking lot. 

He pulled up in about ten minutes with Theon in the front seat beside him. Why was she not surprised. She was half expecting her adoptive brother to pop up from the backseat as well. 

She quickly made her way into the car, rushing to get out of the cold. She gave a huff as she shut the door and grimaced. “It smells like weed in here.”

Robb froze while Theon laughed loudly. He turned on his seat to grin at her. “Well, hello to you too.”

She gave him a sarcastic smile that only made him laugh more. Her smile disappeared when a realization kicked in. “Wait, please tell me that you’re not driving high right now.”

“You do realize that we just dragged our arses out of the comfortable and warm basement to pick you up?"

“That’s not an answer.”

Robb sighed. “No, Sans I’m not high. I didn’t smoke anything because I thought you’d want a ride soon. And I was right. Theon, on the other hand… ” The boys’ laughter did nothing to prevent guilt from bubbling in her stomach. She hated being such a burden to her brother that she prevented him from having fun. 

“Well, thank you both very much.”

Robb probably caught her expression in the rearview mirror because he clicked his tongue as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Don’t beat yourself up, Sans. It’s _fine_. I love driving you around. We also picked up some food for you.” He motioned to Theon to and he quickly turned to hand her a box of chicken nuggets.

Sansa held back a moan, it smelled so good. But no, she would not break her diet only a couple weeks away from the most important night of her life. “Robb, you know I can’t eat McDonalds.”

Robb groaned. “Oh come on, Sansa. You’re fifteen, you’re meant to be living off McDonalds at this point. Besides, when was the last time you ate anything?”

Sansa didn’t respond and just turned her head to look out the window. He was right; she hadn’t eaten properly since lunch. She was starving. But this was junk food. Really, really bad junk food that she didn’t even truly know what was in the nuggets could qualify as chicken. _Fuck, it smelled good._

“You know, if you don’t want it princess I’d be more than happy to take it back.” Theon was already reaching backwards for the box and she slapped his hand away on instinct. He pulled back with a victorious smirk. “That’s what I thought.” He muttered almost to himself.

She glared at his back. _Prick._ She couldn’t understand why Robb and Jon ever wanted to spend time with him. He had grown more tolerable over the years, sure. But it was times like these, when he teased her unnecessarily, that she wanted to just smack Theon on the head. Whatever.

She turned to her chicken nuggets and dipped one in the barbeque sauce before taking a bite out of it. It tasted just as amazing as it smelled. She knew she would hate herself for it later but she devoured all nine of the nuggets as fast as she could.

“Where’s the third musketeer?”

“Jon’s passed out on the couch.” Robb shrugged. “Didn’t feel like waking him.”

The sound of Robb’s obscure rock songs were replaced by a loud ringing. Sansa smirked when she saw Talisa’s name on his phone screen. Theon and Robb shared a look, both frozen for a second before springing into action. They both jumped for the phone, fumbling to grab it. Robb managed to snatch the phone first clicking the green button with a grin. “Hey babe.” 

But he didn’t take into account the bluetooth.

“Hey, muffin.” Her voice echoed across the car. Robb’s smile slipped off his face and Theon covered his mouth with his hand to restrain his laughter. Sansa turned her face even further towards the window to cover her own smirk. 

She had nothing against Talisa. The girl was… okay. On paper she was meant to be perfect. She was a senior just like Robb and Theon. She was going to Volantis for Med school. She was beautiful and had treated all the Starks with the utmost respect. Their relationship just felt slightly off, and Sansa couldn’t really understand why. Robb had a pattern for falling head over heels way too easily and this was the first time the girl of his affection actually reciprocated. Those two were sickenly, _sickenly_ in love. Sansa was happy for her brother, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate how absolutely ridiculous his relationship was. Like “muffin?” _Seriously?_

Robb’s hands gripped the steering wheel as he blushed harder and harder. “I’m driving right now and I can’t really talk. Can I call you back later?”

“Sure. Love you.”

“Love you, bye.” Robb quickly ended the call, his music sounding throughout the car again. For a moment none of them said anything. “Not one word.”

That’s when they broke. Both Sansa and Theon burst out laughing. Robb just shook his head as they kept laughing at his expense. 

They soon pulled up at their driveway, their house coming in full view. 

“Maybe you guys should take a shower before seeing Mum again.” Sansa suggested.

“Haha.” Robb said sarcastically as he turned off the engine. “It’s fine. Mum’s already in bed and we’re coming in through the back anyways.”

Sansa was collecting her stuff as her brother filed out. Theon opened the car door for her and she smirked at him as she climbed out. “Wow, what a gentleman.”

He grinned at her and shrugged. “You know me, I always strive to please.”

Theon saluted her as they parted ways and she laughed. He must be _really_ high. 

She made the climb up to her room slower than usual. She was fucking exhausted. She dropped her bags by the floor and collapsed onto her bed with a groan. She wanted to sleep but she also really needed a shower.

Sansa shifted her head to look at her wall of trophies and awards. Her mother had gotten her into dancing as soon as the girl could walk, and Sansa came to love it just as much as her. She wanted to take part in every class and competition she could and her mother was more than happy to comply.

Catelyn didn’t have as much luck with the rest of her children. Taking dance classes as children was mandatory for all the Stark children. The worst attempt was Arya. At five years old, Arya had come to hate ballet so much that she once tossed her ballerina slipper at her teacher’s head. Catelyn had let her drop it after that.

It was a mother-daughter bonding experience of some sort. Catelyn and Sansa could talk about ballet for hours and hours. But the one thing Catelyn didn’t approve was Sansa’s dream to attend the Lion’s Academy. She wanted Sansa to stay right there in Winterfell and go to _her_ academy and hopefully follow her into the Winterfell Ballet company. 

But Sansa didn’t want to just follow in her mother’s footsteps. She wanted to carve a space of her own. She wanted to be known as the “Great Sansa Stark” and not as “Catelyn Stark’s daughter”. Her mother didn’t understand.

Sansa let herself rest her eyes for five more seconds before forcing herself to get up and shower.

* * *

Sansa had the house to herself for the first time in…. Well, in a really long time. 

Her father was with Arya at her soccer match in Dorne. Her mother was one of the chaperones for Rickons’s school trip. Bran was sleeping over at Jojen’s after hours of playing Fortnite. Robb had snuck off to Talisa’s for most of the weekend and Jon was working on his Literature project at the Library with Sam.

She had baked herself her favorite lemon cakes (the only sugar she allowed herself to eat) and was fully prepared to watch the Princess Bride in the big TV _all by herself_. Moments of solitude were rare to find in such a big family and she was planning on enjoying every bit of it.

  
It was pouring rain outside, which was perfect weather for warm tea. She was filling the kettle with water when the doorbell rang. 

Sansa frowned. She had no idea who would be coming over at this hour. Every person in her family had a key and would let themselves right in.

Sansa looked through the peephole and quickly scrambled to unlock it when she saw who was on the other side. 

Theon looked up at her wide-eyed as she opened the door. He was soaking wet. His hair drenched and flopping forward to cover his forehead. Though, it couldn’t cover the bruises blooming and the blood running down his cheek.

Sansa stood there for a second. She had no idea what to say. “Robb and Jon aren’t here.” That was definitely not the right thing to say. Theon Greyjoy was at her doorstep bleeding and that’s what she settled for? She wouldn’t blame him if he just turned around and left. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stu-_

“I know.” He sniffed and wiped at his nose with the sleeve of his jean jacket. “I had nowhere else to go.”

He looked terrible. Fragile. She had never seen him like this before and she didn’t really know how to take it. Sansa bit her lip and stepped aside to let him through. 

“Come, I’ll get you a towel.” 

He followed her to the bathroom and she handed him a towel from one of the drawers. He was about to press it to his face when she yelled. “Wait!”

He glared at her and she cleared her throat. “I mean…you’re bleeding. We should fix that first.”

Theon nodded and pointed at the cabinet. “First-aid kit’s in there.” 

She opened it and there it was. Sansa reached up to take it out and set it on the sink. “Why, may I ask, do you know where our first-aid kit is?” She washed her hands before going to sort through the materials. 

How the fuck was she supposed to know how to do this? She wasn’t a nurse. She only knew how to deal with the pain and sores she got on her feet. She hadn’t dealt with any cuts like these since she was a child. She would try her best and there was no way she could kill him by dealing with one simple cut. Or could she?

He shrugged, turning to lean on the sink next to her. Theon was looking less small than before. But still, his constant casual arrogance was dimmed. “Not the first time I’ve been fixed up by a Stark. Probably won’t be the last.”

She placed her fingers lightly on his chin to turn his face toward hers. She analysed the cut and it seemed to have stopped bleeding. She wet a cloth and started to clean the area around the wound. “Are you telling me that Jon heals your wounds every day as you stare into each other’s eyes lovingly?”

He laughed, but even that seemed half-hearted. “No. I save all my heart eyes for you, Sansa.”

She stopped what she was doing and met his eyes. She hadn’t realized how close he was. And his eyes, _those fucking ocean eyes_. They would be the death of her, she was sure of it. There was always so much feeling in them. No matter what grin or joke he was using as a mask, he could never take his true emotions from his eyes. 

Now, he was just staring at her hard and open. It made something stir within her. 

She cleared her throat and looked down. Had he been inching towards her? No, she had imagined it. Surely, he would never look at her like that.

She dug through the kit and pulled out the band-aids packs. “Unfortunately, Mum usually buys these for Rickon so what would you rather have? Power Rangers or Ninja Turtles?”

Theon scrunched his eyebrows as if he was taking his options with deep consideration. “I’m gonna go with turtle power.”

Sansa nodded and put the Power Rangers one away. “Ninja Turtles, it is.”

She stuck it to his face, sure that she was messing this up immensely. She smoothed the band-aid over his cheek feeling the air between them suddenly shift. “How did it happen?”

Theon looked down and started to pick at a loose string of his wet jean jacket. “He found a pack of cigarettes in my room. He shattered a couple bottles.”

Sansa felt something rotten take root in her. She knew Theon’s home situation was shite but by the Gods she never expect the truth of it to hit her this hard. If her father found a pack of cigarettes in her room he’d be mad, sure. But he would never _ever_ lay a hand on her. She hated Balon Greyjoy with every fiber of her being for making his son look this small. She hated him. _Hated him. Hated him. Hated-_

“Here, give me your jacket. It must be weighing a ton.”

Theon nodded and shrugged it off.

She took it and hung it up on one of the hooks. “I can get you something of Robb’s. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Sansa left to go to Robb’s room. She grabbed a sweatshirt that was sure to fit. They were practically the same build anyways and sweatshirts were a more universal size as well and– _Holy shit he was shirtless._

Sansa stopped in her tracks. “Uhh…” She snapped her eyes from his surprisingly good abs to hand him the sweatshirt. He took it easily, with no sign of noticing her ogling. Nope, there it was: a slight smirk as he pulled it over his head. _Prick._

She had seen plenty of boys shirtless before though, thank you very much. She was a ballerina for fuck’s sake, she saw abs all the time. But this was Theon and this felt more intimate and just… different. 

“Do you want some tea?” More like _she_ needed to just go anywhere far away from this cramped bathroom.

“Sure.”  
  
She turned on her heels and restrained herself from sprinting downstairs. She finished putting the water in the kettle and went to get a couple mugs. “What type?”

Theon’s eyes scanned the variety of tea at the shelves. “Earl Grey is fine.”

Sansa nodded and put the right tea bags in each mug. She turned around to face him as they waited for the water to boil. There was an awkward silence before Theon (unsurprisingly) broke it. “When’s your recital again?”

“Oh. It’s not this Friday but the next.”

Theon nodded. “Cool. I’ll be sure to be there.”

“You don’t have to–”

“I know.” He interrupted her. “I want to.”

Sansa didn’t really know what to say to that, so she just gave him a grateful smile.

His eyes settled on something beside her. “Are those lemon cakes?”

“Oh. Yes. I just baked them.” She grabbed the plate and offered it to him. “Want one?”

Theon cocked his head eyeing the plate for a second. He shrugged and reached for one. “Sure.” He took a bite out of it and his face changed completely. “Drowned God Sansa, this is incredible.”

She shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed. She felt awkward whenever anyone praised her at anything. “Thanks.”

The kettle singed and Sansa turned to pour the hot water into their mugs. She offered one of them to Theon and he reached for it eagerly.

They stood there for a couple seconds both blowing lightly at their tea. 

“I was actually about to watch the Princess Bride. Want to join me?”

That something stirred in her again when he nodded at her with a grin. 

Feelings are such pesky little things, aren’t they?

* * *

“Okay, what about this one: The Almost Brothers.”

“ _No_.” Jon and Theon vetoed immediately.

Robb, Jon and Theon were all splayed across the living room. They were trying to settle on a name for their punk rock band. Every one worse than the next. 

This one had to be the worst one so far in Sansa’s opinion. She was sitting on the floor failing to do her Pre-Calculus homework. It was the only subject she struggled at and Sansa _hated_ it _._ They were doing analytical trig and Sansa never seemed to get the hang of it. Sunday was the only day she didn’t have ballet class and she was trying to get a head-start to no avail. She’d been staring at the problem for ten minutes straight and she still had no idea what to do.

“Oh, come on. You have to admit it’s clever.” Robb protested. 

“No.” They both repeated.

Jon was mindlessly strumming his guitar, humming a low melody to himself. He looked so much like the stereotypical tortured artist that Sansa wanted to laugh. 

“It’s a terrible name, mate.” Theon was on the armchair behind her, laying on a position that would be uncomfortable for anyone but him. “Use the reciprocal identities.”

Robb frowned. “What kind of name is that?”

Theon rolled his eyes. “Not talking to you. Sansa, use the reciprocal identities then you can simplify from there.”

Sansa looked down at her notebook. He was right. “Oh. Thanks.”

Theon shrugged. “No problem.”

Robb shifted on the couch to reach for his writing notebook without moving. “Well, since you both love shitting on my ideas why don’t you come up with something?”

“How about the Direwolves?”

They all fell silent. Jon stopped his strumming and Theon stopped his fidgeting.

Sansa tried not to balk under their stare. “I mean, you all had that weird wolf obsession when you were younger. It’s something you have in common. And it’s dark and eerie just like your music.”

They all took a second to take it in. Robb eventually broke the silence. “Well, I like it.”

“Me too.” Jon agreed.

“Me three.” Theon grinned and leaned down to muss up her hair. “Good job, Sans. You just found us our name.”

Sansa smiled to herself and returned to her homework, ignoring the warm feeling resonating from where Theon had touched her. 

* * *

The week before the recital passed by in a blur. It was a flurry of rehearsals and extra practices. But she remembered meeting the Lannisters _very_ clearly. 

Cersei Lannister came to her mother’s company to pay Catelyn a visit a couple days earlier. She had brought along her son, and Sansa who was warming up at the barre had halted at the sight of him. He was the most beautiful boy she had ever laid eyes on. 

He met her eyes and smiled. It was that smile that gave her the courage to come up and talk to him as their mothers chatted. “Hi, I’m Sansa.”

“Joffrey.” He nodded towards the general direction of the studio. “Working on anything interesting?”

Sansa hesitated for a second, she didn’t want him to be unimpressed if she had chosen her solo incorrectly. She didn’t think she would be able to handle such direct disappointment. “You’ll have to come to the recital and see for yourself.”

He smiled. She seemed to be intriguing him. _Good_. “Are you applying to the Lion’s Academy?”

Sansa nodded.

“Well, maybe I’ll see you next fall then.”

She smiled as her stomach tightened. She couldn’t believe this gorgeous boy wanted to see her again. “I’d love that.”

Cersei cleared her throat, a blatant hint that they were to get going.

Joffrey gave Sansa one last smile. “I’ll see you Friday, Sansa.”

“I’ll see you.”

Sansa felt giddy for a good hour after their meeting. 

She practiced her solo with renewed rigor. She had chosen to do Lyanna’s first solo in “Robert’s Rebellion.” It’s the dance that makes Rhaegar and Robert both fall in love with her. It’s soft and delicate and Sansa feels like a princess every time she does it. It’s been her favorite dance ever since she was a child.

She was meant to play Lyanna someday. She was sure of it. And she knew that on Friday the part of her that was destined to play her, would come out on her variation. 

When the recital came around, all her anxieties left her as soon as [she stepped out on stage](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cNQFB0TDfY). She _was_ Lyanna. And she was about to make the entire audience fall in love with her. 

She went through her solo without fixating as much as usual in her mistakes. When she would mess up slightly she would notice, fix it, and let it go. They were like leaves that she let get caught in the wind.

The smile on Sansa’s face was purely natural as her solo came to an end. She could hear her family’s whoops and hollers through the roaring applause and her smile only widened.

She became overwhelmed with all the flowers and compliments her family gave her backstage. She was the last one in the dressing room, all the other girls had already left with their families. 

She finally managed to change out of her costume, but left her makeup on and her hair still in it’s half-up hairdo.

Someone knocked on the door as she packed up her belongings. “Come in!”

Theon popped in, the grin on his face less cocky than usual. He looked almost shy. “Hey.”

She smiled back at him and straightened up. “Hey.”

He stepped further into the dressing room. He held out the contents on his hands to her: a winter rose and lemon cakes. “These are for you. The winter rose because, well, I figured…you know, with the whole Lyanna story. And the lemon cakes because they’re your favorite.”

He was rambling and as soon as Sansa took the gifts from him his hand snapped up to rub the back of his neck. She looked at the items on her hands with awe. These were the most thoughtful gifts she’d received all night. “Thank you, Theon.”

She met his eyes and awkwardness in his seemed to dissipate almost immediately.

“You were extraordinary, Sans.”

She was extraordinary. _Extraordinary._ The word washed over her like a wave. He thought she was extraordinary. He didn’t see how her arabesque was a tad lower than usual or how she had been late for a quarter of a second towards the end. He didn’t see the mistakes that she was currently playing on a loop over her head. No, Theon just thought she was extraordinary. 

Sansa was sure she looked insane at that moment. She still had her bold stage make-up on and she was sure she was sweaty and extremely disheveled. 

Sansa knew she looked like no princess right now. Then why was he looking at her like she was the most beautiful, no, extraordinary thing he’d ever seen?

Because here he was: Theon Greyjoy, the boy covered in bruises who liked punk rock and was a skater boy and smoked way too much weed and wanted to be in a band and helped her with her Pre-Calculus homework and spilled mud on her dress as a child and teased her in a way that could even be called flirting and he had brought her a rose and lemon cakes and was looking at her like he wanted to kiss her and made her realize that maybe she didn’t want a fictional prince after all but a _real_ boy with _real_ issues and maybe she just wanted him, Theon Greyjoy. 

But he was also Theon Greyjoy, her brother’s best friend and she was a ballerina who had to focus on pirouettes and dance routines and not pretty boys who rode skateboards. 

She wanted him. But she’d never tell.

“We should get going. My dad has probably gotten the car around by now.”

She ignored the flash of disappointment over his face. She was imagining it all. He didn’t like her. He _couldn’t_. 

“Right.”

A knock on her door forced her to break his intense gaze. The smile returned to her face as she saw Joffrey by the door with a big bouquet of lilies. “Hi Sansa.”

“Hi. Is that for me?” Her heart soared as he nodded. She put Theon’s gifts all on her left hand to take Joffrey’s bouquet with her right hand. “Thank you, Joffrey. They’re beautiful.”

He was smiling back at her when she heard someone clear their throat behind them. She had almost forgotten about Theon behind her. _Right_. Theon who she could never have.

“I’ll tell them you’re on your way out then?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” 

Theon refused to meet her eyes as he scampered out. 

“Sansa.” Joffrey’s voice made her snap her eyes from the direction Theon had left from. 

“Yes?”  
  
“I was talking to my mother.” His eyes sparkled as he inched closer to her. “And she might have mentioned how you were one of the top contenders for the academy.”  
  
Sansa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was this really happening? “Are you saying there’s a good chance I’m getting in?”

Joffrey’s grin widened into something feral. He looked almost like a lion. “No. I’m saying that you’re in, Sansa.”

“I’m in?” She was going to scream. Her dream since she was seven years old was finally coming true. She couldn’t believe it.

“Well, don’t tell anyone yet because it’s not official but yes Sansa, you’re in.”

Sansa laughed loudly and jumped up to hug him. His arms tightened around her as her eyes began to water. She was smiling so hard her face was beginning to hurt. She was in. She was in. _She was in!_

She began to pull away to say something else when he kept her in his arms and kissed her. Sansa froze for a second before melting into the kiss. She let the flowers drop from her hand to put her hands into his hair. 

Joffrey was her prince. That’s what she _needed_ , a prince. She was a princess and princesses had no business going off with skater boys. And she would never forget her rightful place ever again.

By the time she left for King’s Landing in the fall, everything seemed to be changing with her. 

Robb was staying in Winterfell for university, finally deciding against following his girlfriend back to Volantis. They’d broken up not a few weeks after that. Jon was going even further north, all the way up to Castle Black. Theon had gotten into the University of Pyke, according to him he was going back to the Iron Isles to “reconnect with his roots”.

Even though she was leaving as well, she hated that her brothers were leaving _her_. Robb was going to stay on campus a couple hours away and Jon was going to be near the wall. They were her brothers and she loved them so much. She had no idea how she was meant to live without their unsolicited advice or their loud band rehearsals.

And Theon… Well, since the recital things had shifted between them. Whatever connection had been built between them for those couple weeks had disappeared. Which was just fine for Sansa. She was going to King’s Landing! This was her dream. She wouldn’t let anyone stop her from enjoying it. Not even the swooping feeling she got in her stomach whenever her and Theon made eye contact. 

Her school year started sooner than everyone’s and her entire family came with her to the train station. Which is something that would’ve embarrassed her deeply but at the moment, was comforting in a way she needed. 

There were already tear marks streaking her cheeks by the time she said goodbye to them. 

She planted a kiss on the top of Rickon’s head as he hugged her. The young boy crying for reasons even he didn’t understand.

Bran didn’t say anything. He just nodded with his piercing gaze before she bent down to hug him on his wheelchair. 

Arya was biting her lip, her face hard in a way that made Sansa know she was holding back tears. 

“I’m going to miss you.”

Arya didn’t reply before abruptly pulling her older sister into a hug. “Don’t let those Southern pricks get to your head.”

Sansa laughed and buried her face in her sister’s hair. “I won’t.”

Robb was grinning before he pulled Sansa into his own hug. Sansa closed her eyes and let her head rest again his shoulder. “We’re so proud of you, Sans.” 

If she hadn’t already been a teary mess by that point, those words would’ve done the trick. She smiled through her tears as she pulled away from him.

She hurled herself into Jon’s arms and he picked her up off the ground slightly. Sansa squeezed her eyes shut as she basked in his comfort. Jon didn’t say anything either. He just nodded with a small smile, and she understood completely. 

Her mother’s face was hard, looking as if she was restraining herself from crying. “I wish you would stay up North, Sansa.” They’d had this conversation a billion times and Sansa felt foolish to think her mother would have accepted defeat already. “You know, I would train you just as well.”

Sansa took her mother’s hands. “I know. But this is something I need to do for myself, Mum. To be a dancer by my own merit.”

Her mother nodded and reached down to hug her. “I love you so much, Sansa.”

“I love you too, Mum.” She said into her mother’s shoulders.

Her father scooped her up almost immediately and she felt like a little girl all over again. He set her on her feet again and bent down to meet her eye-level. “My sweet, Sansa. Don’t forget to show them all how spectacular you are.” He tucked in a strand of her hair behind her ear. “If anything happens, you’ll always be welcome in Winterfell. _Always_.”

Sansa smiled at her father. “I love you, Dad.”

He smiled back at her and kissed her forehead. “I love you too, little wolf.”

And then there was Theon. He was standing off to the side with his hands in his pockets. He usually fit in so well with the Stark family but at that moment he looked out of place. 

They held eye contact for a few seconds before Sansa made her decision. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

He froze a couple moments before reaching up to hug her back. 

“I know you’ll have fun, but don’t forget to come home.” She whispered low so only he could hear.

“Likewise.” He replied just as low in her ear in a way that made shivers run up and down her back.

She untangled herself from him and grabbed her suitcase. She looked around her family one last time. She loved them all with her entire being, more than she ever thought possible. She gave a short laugh and wiped at her face. “Well, goodbye then.”

With that she turned around and climbed on the train that would take her to King’s Landing, her future.

When she had settled into her seat, the stream of tears had significantly decreased.

She checked her phone and gave a bark of laughter at the text she saw. The old lady beside her gave her a look but she didn’t care.

**“game of phones”**

**Arya:** well that was fucking dramatic

Sansa sniffed and typed out a response as she giggled. 

**Sansa:** lol it was wasn’t it?

 **Robb:** I thought that was just the right amount of dramatic

 **Theon:** that’s because you’re the biggest drama queen I know. I once saw you cry for 10 minutes because you dropped your last fry on the floor

 **Jon:** he’s not wrong

 **Robb:** oi

 **Robb:** you don’t have a leg to stand on Sir Broods-a-lot

Sansa could see the picture so clearly in her mind. All of them packed in the back of her dad’s car, smiling at their phones. She could see the smack Theon probably received for his jab. She could hear her mother’s voice reprimanding them for getting too rowdy while hiding a small smile of amusement. 

She missed them all already.

* * *

Her next three years at the academy were incredible. She had never felt so immersed in the dance world and Sansa was thriving _._ She was good, _really_ good. And she constantly worked her ass off to keep her spot at the top of her class. 

Sure, it came with a cost. It came with bruises and aches that never seemed to fade. It came with losing contact with Jeyne almost completely. It meant not being able to go home for certain holidays because she wanted to stay in the academy to practice. It meant that those times she did get to come home, she would marvel at how tall Rickon was getting and how grown up Arya was beginning to look. Jon tried his best to be in Winterfell when she came to visit but he didn’t always make it. It also meant she never got to see Theon again. The first time she missed him, Robb told her he hadn’t heard from him in months. He had gone to Pyke and just stopped responding to anyone’s texts. The next time she missed him was a while later. Robb told her Theon had showed up at his doorstep after almost a year of being M.I.A, drunk and drugged out of his mind. He’d confessed to Robb he’d gotten kicked out of university for getting involved with some bad people, but Robb never told her the details. He was at rehab when Sansa had been home from school.

But it also came with amazing things too. It came with roaring applause as she finished her dance in Joffrey’s arms. It came with her roommate, Margaery, who quickly became one of the closest people in her life. It came with the satisfaction of receiving Cersei’s approval after weeks of working tirelessly for it. It also meant more time spent with Joffrey and his sweet words and kisses. Her prince.

When the offers from companies started to roll in, there was no doubt in Sansa’s mind she would go to the Royal Ballet if they offered her a place. She loved King’s Landing, she loved her life here. She had briefly met Cersei’s friend Petyr Baelish who was the artistic director, and he had seemed to take quite an interest with her. 

Margaery, on the other hand, was weighing her options very carefully. She didn’t want to stay in King’s Landing. Her enamourdness for the city had run out fairly quickly while Sansa still believed it to be her favorite place in the world. Margaery didn’t want to go to her own family’s company in High Garden. Her grandmother directed the Rose Ballet and Sansa knew that it was one of her mother’s favorites. What surprised Sansa the most was that one of Margaery’s top contenders was the Winterfell Ballet.

“But Marg…you hate the cold.” That was the first thing that had come to Sansa’s mind when Margaery had told her. 

She shouldn’t have been so surprised by someone considering her mother’s company as a career, it was one of the most renowned companies for classical ballet in Westeros. But Sansa had so quickly eliminated it from her mind (it was just too close to home) that she expected other people to do the same.

Margaery had shrugged. “Yes, well I could use a change in scenery. I’ve grown quite tired of the South. And besides, don’t you think I’d look adorable with all the winter apparel?”

And that was that. Margaery was going up north to work under her mother and Sansa was going to stay in King’s Landing. She was thrilled. The day she signed her contract was one of the happiest days of her life. Joffrey took her out to dinner to celebrate and she indulged herself in a little too much champagne. She was just so happy it almost made her dizzy. Another step in her plan was done. She’d gotten her position in the Royal Ballet on her own merit.

It was a shame it all went to shite.

* * *

The beginning of her career was everything she’d ever dreamed of. She was so entranced by the magic of it all that it took a while before she could see the ugly secrets people bore underneath.

The first thing that Sansa realized was off was the other dancers. In the academy, they were technically competitors, sure, but they still saw each other as friends. The company felt more like a shark tank. Any sign of blood and weakness and the other sharks would tear you to pieces. She was too good, and others immediately ruled her as a threat to their place. Sansa stopped trusting anyone after someone broke all her pointe shoes less than an hour before a performance.

Cersei would only ever see her as Joffrey’s little toy thing. Sansa was her “little dove” and she could never see her as the woman Sansa was growing to be. She felt trapped by her condescending words and felt smaller and smaller each day.

Baelish’s appraise were no longer just words of encouragement. No, now they were words laced with venom and desire and Sansa had to restrain herself from flinching every time he’d put his hands on her to “correct her form”.

The worst of it all was Joffrey. She didn’t know what happened to him. Her prince with his sweet words and kind gestures had turned rotten. He now only spoke to her to criticize her technique and her shape. He yelled at her when she messed up in rehearsals and performances, the slightest of mistakes would cause him to bear his fingernails in her stomach to let her know that he had noticed.

Sansa knew she should’ve broken up with him the first time he’d left a bruise on her body. Maybe even earlier when he’d thrown a glass cup next to her head and it shattered into pieces behind her.

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t escape him. They were in the same company, his _mother’s_ company. She was under contract for years to come and she couldn’t just leave. She had slaved away for years to have a place in the company and she wasn’t going to just give it all up. 

So she stayed. She became good at fake smiles and meaningless words that sounded nice. When she wasn’t rehearsing, she was in “their” apartment watching movies in her room while Joffrey went out with his mother. She couldn’t go home to Winterfell, they would be able to tell something was wrong. They would tell her to leave him and the company, to come home. They didn’t understand. She had worked too hard for too long to just give up now. She was already a soloist and at only 23 she was already on the cusp of becoming a principal dancer. 

She started to ignore her family. She eventually stopped answering texts except for the ever so often vague response that she was okay. After a while, they all stopped trying. Some took longer than others. 

The hardest to push away was actually Arya. The girl refused to let her older sister be. When the company stopped in Braavos, where Arya was going for college, her sister insisted on going to her performance. 

Sansa didn’t mind her sister watching her perform, she was actually quite proud of her company’s rendition of the Nutcracker. Her solo as the Sugar Plum Fairy was one of the few things keeping her sane. Arya had given her flowers and when she asked if she wanted to go out for dinner Sansa evaded her by saying Joffrey had already made plans. 

She hated avoiding her sister like this, but she knew that all it would take was one question to make her completely fall apart. And she couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not when she was this close to her dreams.

But Sansa knew she was almost at her breaking point. She didn’t know how much longer she could take. 

Her answer came at the end of their tour. They were doing a more contemporary style with hard and stiff moves that didn’t come as naturally to Sansa as usual. And in the performance, she was the slightest bit off and dropped hard and awkwardly as Joffrey set her down. Her mistake tripped him up as well and he lurched forward from the unexpected weight.

Sansa knew what would come next and she felt her blood turn into ice. His fingers dug into her sides as a blaring warning of what would happen when the curtain shut. She went through the rest of the choreography on auto-pilot, hearing nothing but the loud thumping of her head.

Sansa felt numb as the curtains drew to a final close. She bolted backstage, trying to get away as fast as possible. But he quickly caught up to her, grabbing her by the arm. She gave a small yelp as he pulled her away from the other dancers coming off-stage and into a dark corner. 

"You fucked us up out there. Do you know what it looks like for me when you fuck up?” He spoke low into her ear, and she flinched at his warm breath. 

“I know, Joffrey.” Her voice was so low she could barely even hear herself. 

He pushed her back just enough to bring his other hand across her face, _hard._ Sansa fell to the ground in a sob. She clutched her face as blinding pain started coursing up and down her cheek making her eyes water. He had never hurt her like this before. Never this public, never this hard and _never_ where anyone could see the mark.

She looked up at him to see him grinning down at her. He _liked_ to see her suffer. How could she have ever thought this monster was her Prince Charming? 

Sansa couldn’t take it anymore. She had forgotten why she even decided it was worth staying in the first place. Joffrey gave one last snarl before leaving her there on the floor sobbing. 

Sansa collapsed as soon as he left her line of sight. She stayed on the floor crying long after he’d left no matter how much it hurt her jaw at the movement. She cried for the hopeful and cheerful girl she once was. She cried for the love of ballet that was replaced by constant fear. She cried for the death of her dream. 

Because Sansa had made her decision. No dream was worth all this pain. 

That night, when Joffrey was still out with his mother, she packed all her belongings that would fit in one suitcase and took the first train to Winterfell without saying a word to anyone. 

She was breaking her contract, she knew. But she didn’t care. They couldn’t do anything to her that would hurt her more than staying.

The taxi pulled up at her house at around 2 a.m. She caught the driver giving her swollen cheek a weird look as she sorted through her wallet for money. Sansa couldn’t blame him. She was sure she looked insane. Her cheek was still throbbing and Sansa couldn’t even close her mouth fully.

She dropped the money in his hand and bid him goodnight.

Sansa rang the doorbell and waited awkwardly as she waited for someone to open the door. It felt weird being a guest at her own home. 

Arya was the one that opened the door. She must’ve been home for summer holidays. Her sister’s face fell apart as she rested her eyes on her cheek. “Sansa…”

She didn’t manage to get another word out because Sansa burst into tears. Arya sprang forward to give her a hug and Sansa sobbed on her shoulder, holding her back fiercely. She tried to get some words out to explain but Arya shushed her and rubbed her back soothingly. 

Sansa let herself bask in the comfort of her sister. It had been years since she’d been held with so much love and care. 

When Sansa’s sobs were reduced to hiccups, Arya pulled back to wipe at her left cheek, avoiding her right one completely. “We need to get you to a hospital. _Now_.”

Sansa couldn’t bring herself to protest. She’d never gone to a hospital with any of Joffrey’s injuries. They would just ask too many questions. But now, she didn’t care. She wanted them to ask questions, she wanted someone else to _know_. Sansa nodded slowly, the pain in her cheek intensifying at the subtle movement. 

Arya sprung into action, she helped her sister up and led her to her car. She helped Sansa get settled in the front seat and hesitated. “Do you want me to wake Mom and Dad?”

Sansa hiccupped and nodded. She hadn’t seen her parents in years and she needed her father’s stability and her mother’s warm comfort right now. 

Arya ran back into the house and Sansa wiped the drool dripping down her chin. God, she was disgusting. This is what Joffrey had reduced her to. A scared little girl with a face so broken that she can’t stop drooling. Fresh tears were streaming down her cheeks when Arya came out with her parents. Sansa gave out a harsher sob at the sight of them. Her dad’s beard was more grey than she remembered and her mother’s ginger hair was up in a hasty bun. She had missed them so much.

Her mother ran ahead and opened the door to pull Sansa into a hug. “Oh, my dear child.” She whispered into her hair. “What did they do to you?”

Sansa didn’t reply and her mother pulled away to kiss her forehead. “We’re gonna get you all better now. I promise.”

Sansa caught her father’s eye over her mother’s shoulder and his face had never looked solemn. He nodded once. Confirmation that he stood by his wife’s words. He then walked around the car and took the driver’s seat. Her mother released Sansa from her grasp reluctantly and joined her other daughter in the back seat. 

The drive to the hospital was silent and tense. Sansa had stopped crying now, only with the occasional sniff. She couldn’t take her eyes from her father. His ever-present beard and the even more prominent lines around his eyes. She couldn’t believe that after all this years he was right there, right in front of her. He caught her staring and gave her a soft smile before reaching over and taking her hand. Sansa clung to it tightly, squeezing it as if it were her lifeline. 

They pulled into the emergency room and as the ever committed mayor that he was, Ned knew the names of all the major doctors and managed to pull some strings and get Sansa her own room before she could even blink. She laid in the examination table with her eyes closed as her mother combed through her hair softly. She could hear Arya in the corner tapping her feet non-stop. Sansa didn’t even have the energy to reprimand her.

Sansa’s eyes snapped open and she sat up quickly at the sound of the door opening. An old man who she could assume was the doctor trailed in followed by her father. “Hello, Sansa. I’m Dr. Luwin and how are you doing tonight?”

Sansa blinked. _That was a stupid fucking question._ “Fine, I guess.”

The doctor nodded, “Good.” Sansa could see it in his eyes he could see she was full of shite. “So what brought you here today.”

“I… um…” Her eyes flitted around the room, at her family. How was she going to tell them the truth? That she had stayed in the South with a monster who hurt her whenever he felt like it. How was she going to say it out loud? 

Dr. Luwin sensed her hesitation and came closer to speak to her in a low voice. “I can examine you alone if you’d like.”

The appeal of that request came to her immediately. She wouldn’t have to tell them what really happened to her. She wouldn’t have to face their reactions.

No. She had spent years hiding away from this and her family. She didn’t want to hide anymore. “They can stay.”

The doctor nodded. “As you wish. So tell me what happened.”

Sansa looked down at her hands in her lap. “My boyfriend and I were fighting and he hit me.” She couldn’t look at her family and their reactions but she could hear her mother’s sharp intake of breath and her sister stopping her incessant foot-tapping.

Dr. Luwin didn’t seem surprised, but his voice seemed heavy-hearted. “How long ago was this?”

Sansa shrugged. Her shoulders curving in on herself as she felt smaller and smaller. “Around ten I think?”

He put down his folder and inched closer to her. Dr. Luwin squinted at the obvious swelling and bruising at her right cheek. He met her eyes and Sansa felt soothed at the kindness in them. “May I?” He asked, gesturing to her face. Sansa nodded and he lifted his fingers to turn her face. She flinched as he pressed along her jaw. He did a series of other tests on her. He checked inside her mouth and asked her to bite on a stick. He wrote a couple things in his folder and looked up at her. “Did he hurt you anywhere else?”

Sansa hesitated for just a moment before nodding. She lifted her sweater to reveal her stomach and the bruises that were already forming from where he’d clung to her. This time, Sansa’s eyes flitted to her family. Her mother had a hand over her mouth with her eyes watering. Her father had a hand on her mother’s shoulder. His jaw was tight and his mouth hard. Her sister was looking at her open-mouthed; her face unreadable. Sansa pried her eyes from them to stare at the floor before the tears came back.

“Alright. Well, we’ll have to get an X-ray of your jaw to check for fractures. From what I’ve gathered now I think there might be a fracture over here,” he gestured to a spot right below her right ear, “which will probably need surgery.” Sansa’s felt her stomach tightening. Surgery? She might need _surgery?_ “It’ll take a couple hours to do the exam and get the results.” Dr. Luwin pressed the folder closer to his chest and looked at her with a level of pity. “Now, I must ask if you want me to contact the police? You can report the crime and choose to pursue civil and criminal charges.”

Sansa froze. She hadn’t thought about that. She hadn’t even considered about the _after._ She could charge him, but what then? Whatever shambles her career was in right now, prosecuting the son of a ballet legend would surely be the nail in the coffin. 

She met her father’s eyes searching for his comfort. She tried to ask him a silent question. _What do I do?_ He nodded once, so subtle she might’ve missed it if she had blinked. 

“Okay. Call them.”

Dr. Luwin gave her a smile and nodded. “I’ll call them immediately. Now someone should be coming around soon to take you for an X-ray. I’ll see you later, Sansa.”

Sansa forced a smile at the old man and he returned one before leaving the room. The air suddenly felt heavy as she realized she was alone with her family. She knew they were dying to ask all their questions but Sansa was just too tired. She laid back on the examination table and curled into herself, her back facing them. She reached up to play with the wall in front of her and shut out the thoughts of what prosecuting Joffrey would mean for her. 

“I should probably call Varys–” their family lawyer “–and get his advice about this whole thing. He can tell us what this means for your contract.”

Sansa only nodded for a response and didn’t turn back to her family to face them. She could hear her father leaving to make the call. She had some idea of what Varys would say. She was going to lose everything. Her career, her life. Nobody would ever hire her again after what she did to the golden boy of the Lannister Dynasty. 

A couple more minutes of silence and the door opened again: a nurse coming to take Sansa to get an X-ray. The nurse told her she would have to go alone and the reluctance in her family to leave her was obvious. But it was just a quick examination and any reserve her mother might’ve had were too ludicrous to voice out loud so Sansa went alone.

Sansa was so tired that it was easy to go through the process mindlessly. She didn’t think about anything, not Joffrey, not her family, and not her career either. Her mind was void of anything except the directions the examiner was giving her. _Lay still. Try not to move._

And then it was over and she was being led back to her room where two police officers were talking to her family. Her father was also back from his phone call. They all turned to face her expectantly when she walked in and Sansa froze at their stare. “Hello,” she muttered.

The tall blond officer was the one who spoke first. He walked over to offer her his hand and she shook it. She noticed that her hands were shaking. “Goodnight, I’m Officer Mormont and this is Officer Selmy. We’re here to ask you a couple questions.”

Sansa nodded. She bit her lip at the sight of her family and asked them as kindly as she could, “Could you give us a moment, please?”

They both looked shocked. Her mother’s face hardened instantly and she looked as if she was about to say something when Ned’s grip on her shoulders tightened. “We’ll leave you to it,” her father’s commanding voice giving the final word, “We’ll be right outside if you need us.”

Sansa nodded and her parents trailed out of the room. When Arya began to move Sansa spoke out again. “Could you stay?” 

Arya looked surprised but quickly nodded before sitting down at the examination table beside her and taking her hand. Sansa clung to it tightly.

The process was grueling. They asked her questions she expected: his name, where the assault had happened, how long had they been living together. But she wasn’t ready to talk about their relationship in general. 

When they asked if he had assaulted her before she had to tighten the hand not interlaced with Arya’s into a fist to prevent it from shaking. “Yes.” Her voice sounded weak and frail to her own ears. She felt like she was holding herself together with tape and glue and with every question they asked her Sansa would get that much closer to falling apart. 

“Has he ever used profane, indecent or threatening language against you over the telephone or on your answering machine?”

“Yes.”

“Can we see it?”

She nodded and handed her phone to Officer Selmy who started taking notes of the several voicemails he had left her in the last couple hours.

Meanwhile, Officer Mormont kept asking her more questions. “Has he ever harrassed you for the purpose of frightening or disturbing you?”

“Yes.”

“Has he threatened to physically injure you?”

“Yes.” _Weak, so fucking weak._

“Has he ever sexually assaulted you?”

That did it. Sansa’s resolve cracked and she curled in herself, covering her face with her hands as she sobbed. She nodded, not daring to look up and face them. Her jaw hurt from where her hands pressed against her face but she didn’t care. She already felt so much pain, _all the time_. Joffrey had hurt her, violated her and Sansa felt weak and incredibly stupid that she had ever believed he loved her.

Arya wrapped her arm around Sansa and whispered soothing words into her ear. Her sister pulled apart to face the officers and her tone changed completely. “Are you done now?” 

The officers seemed taken aback by the harsh tone but the older one, Officer Selmy, nodded. “Yes, I think we got it. Someone should be coming around soon to take pictures of the physical harm for evidence. Because it’s in another state, we’ll probably have to wait until morning to contact the King’s Landing police department and they’ll issue an arrest.” _Arrest?_ Sansa thought numbly, _they are going to arrest him?_

The cynical part of Sansa’s brain soon responded. _He’s probably going to get bail immediately with all his connections._

“We’ll let you know if we need anything else.” Officer Mormont added. He looked guilty over the disturbance he had caused. “Have a goodnight.”

“You too,” said Arya in sarcastic tone. Arya’s hand on her shoulder loosened as the officers left the room. “ _Pricks_ ,” she whispered under her breath.

Sansa sniffed and sat back up to wipe her face. “They were just doing their job.”

Arya shook her head, staring after them as if she could see them through the door. “They should’ve been more careful about it. They didn’t need to be that… tactless.” A little bit of warmth returned to the pit of darkness Sansa felt her heart to have become. Her sister’s protectiveness was refreshing compared to all her fellow ballerinas who turned a blind eye to Joffrey’s cruelty.

Before Sansa could say anything, her parents came back into the room. They both noticed the fresh tears on Sansa’s cheeks but didn’t comment. 

“I talked to Varys.” Her father said breaking the silence. “He said we made the right call coming to the hospital since the prosecutor can use the medical report as evidence. He also said that you should start thinking about witnesses that could be subpoenaed. Anyone you could ask Sansa that would testify for you?”

Sansa responded immediately. “No.”

Catelyn furrowed her eyebrows. “Surely there must be _someone_ who would be willing to vouch for you. I know it’s against their own company but still–”

Sansa shook her head. “There’s no one.” She looked away from their pitying glares and down at her hands. “I had no friends in King’s Landing.”

A tense silence followed but Ned eventually continued. “Now about the company, he said there would be a fine, of course, and they might sue her for breach of contract. And there’s something else… the non-compete clause.”

She snapped her eyes back to her father, a rotten taste filling her mouth as she took in his words.

“What does that mean?” Arya asked.

Sansa knew exactly what it meant but felt incapable of words. _This_ is why she hadn’t left. Her voice broke as she spoke. “It means I can’t dance.”

“ _What?_ ” Catelyn balked. “For how long?”

It seemed that Ned had a weight on his shoulders that kept growing with every sentence. “By the looks of it, for at least a year. Not professionally at least.”

Sansa started to laugh. A humorless, ugly thing. She was so tired of crying and yet tears were starting to fill her eyes. “My career is over.” Despite the laughter, her voice still managed to crack at the truth of it. Her cackles quickly turned into sharp breaths on the brink of turning into sobs.

Her mother walked over to her to grab her hand. “No, it’s not Sansa. We will fight this. And if we can’t, then we’ll practice every day together. You will come back for this. I promise you.” 

Sansa nodded, too emotional to say anything back. Her mother gave her a hesitant smile and pulled back to sit back in the spare chair.

Arya just took her hand and leaned her head on her shoulder as they sat there, waiting for the doctor to come back with news.

They were all too tired to speak and not one word was spoken when Dr. Luwin finally came in. “Well, we got the results back.” He placed the X-ray’s on a white board that shone through it, showing a picture of Sansa’s jaw. “You can see there’s a fracture over here.” He gestured toward her upper-right jaw. “Unfortunately, we’ll need to take you into surgery to fix it.”

“ _What?_ How soon?” Sansa asked.

“We should get you into pre-op right now and probably do the procedure this afternoon. At around two.” He gave her a second to process the information. “Now, I must warn you what this will mean for you after the surgery.”

And that’s when Dr. Luwin told her about the swelling, and the pain, and the braces she would have to get to hold her jaw shut with elastic bands. He told her about her diet and about the importance of fluids. Her mother took notes into a notebook and asked him a crazy amount of questions. 

Sansa had stopped listening and just sat there, staring at the wall numbly. She thought her suffering would be over when she left King’s Landing but it felt like it was just beginning. 

_Maybe this is your punishment for disobeying him._ Said a small, sick part of her brain. _Maybe you deserve this._

 _No._ Sansa thought to herself. _I don’t deserve this. No one could deserve this._

“Do you have any more questions, Sansa?”

She snapped from her thoughts and brought her attention back to Dr. Luwin. “No. Thank you.”

Dr. Luwin looked her up and down. “Alright, then a nurse should be coming around to get you settled in your new room. Then you’ll be taken to our orthodontist in the fourth floor to have your braces installed. I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

“Right.”

All Sansa could hear when the door shut behind him was her mother’s frantic scribbling. 

She didn’t want to talk about the prospect of her surgery anymore so she quickly changed the subject to something she’s been aching to ask. “Where are the boys?”

Her family seemed stunned by the random question. Her sister was the first to recover and answer. “Rickon is at home, still asleep I reckon. Jon, Robb and Theon are on tour right now. I think they have a concert in Dorne today but I’m not really sure. They’ll be back in a couple of weeks to have their last show in Winterfell.”

Sansa blinked. The boys were on _tour?_ From what limited knowledge of her family Sansa had, she knew that the boys had gotten Direwolves back together after college and that they’d even managed to sign on a label. She didn’t know they’d gotten enough traction to get a concert let alone a _tour_. 

“Speaking of.” Her mother checked her watch. “I should probably go back home to get Rickon ready for school. He should be waking up in a couple hours.”

Sansa nodded and offered her guilty mother a smile. Her mother kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll also stop by the store and get some things for you but I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Catelyn looked as if she was about to say “screw it” and stay when she squeezed Sansa’s hand one more time and left. 

The door shut and Sansa laid back down with a groan. “Tell me something stupid.”

“Like a story?” Arya asked. 

Sansa shrugged. She just needed a distraction right now. 

“Well…” Arya sat down at the foot of Sansa’s examination table. “Bran got a set of new tarot cards and started to tell everyone’s ‘fortune’ for a while. Now, that was pretty stupid.”

Sansa smiled but quickly tamed it due to the pain that shot through her jaw. Amusement still seeped into her voice when she spoke, “No way. He did?”

Arya nodded with a smirk. “Oh yeah. He was obnoxious. Nothing would make him stop. I tried threatening him after he kept insisting the cards told him I’d go ‘temporarily blind’. Theon eventually stole the cards and hid them so well that Bran never found them.” Arya shrugged and gave a small laugh. “Saved me the trouble of having to shove those damned tarot cards up Bran’s arse.”

Sansa couldn’t help it this time and laughed for real. Even her father gave a huff of amusement in the corner, unbothered by his daughter’s vocabulary. It was then that Sansa realized she couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed.

“That’s so Bran. Can you remember any other particularly stupid predictions?”

Arya leaned her head against the wall. “Let me think. Well, both Robb and Jon were gonna die soon.”

“Of course.”

“But not before Jon was meant to join a weird ‘men’s only cult’ or something like that.”

“I don’t think tarot cards are usually this specific.”

“They’re not but Bran got bored of the vague ominous shite and started to make up stuff.”

Sansa giggled. “That’s not how they work.”

“I know.” Arya was laughing too. “You asked for something stupid so I gave you something stupid.”

Sansa felt warm from this new information. Her family was a bunch of idiots and Old Gods had she missed them. Her heart ached whenever she thought of everything she’d missed. 

“Tell me something else.”

And so she did. Arya told her every stupid story or event she could remember. When the orthodontist was placing metal plates on Sansa’s teeth Arya distracted her from flashing back to her awkward thirteen year old self (Sansa wore braces for two years and had hated every moment of it) by telling her about Rickon breaking his arm jumping off a tree (he thought his makeshift parachute would make him fly. It didn’t). 

When their father had to leave for work, leaving them alone in Sansa’s new room, Arya told Sansa something that shocked her to the core.

“I’m kind of dating someone?”

“ _What?_ ” Sansa couldn’t believe it. Arya was dating someone. Hell must surely be freezing over.

“Wait what do you mean by kind of?”

“I mean we haven’t really talked about it yet.” The lack of a smirk on her face was a glaring sign on how much this person meant to her. Sansa was immediately intrigued; she had never seen Arya be seriously interested in _anyone_.

“Who are they?”

“His name is Gendry.” Arya shifted in her seat and pulled her legs under herself. “He’s actually the boys’ new drummer.” 

“Wow.” Sansa didn’t ask her if she liked him. She knew that if she did, Arya would immediately recoil and put her walls up. She always had to be more subtle when trying to get a sense of Arya’s feelings. “Well maybe you could introduce him to me when the boys are back?”

Arya was tugging at her nail and didn’t say anything for a moment. “Yeah, sure.”

_Holy shit, Arya was in love with him._

They kept that way until Sansa’s mum returned: Arya telling her stupid things she missed and Sansa laughing at them. 

Catelyn walked in with two duffle bags along with her purse, and a pillow.

Arya’s jaw dropped. “That’s a lot of stuff.”

Their mother ignored her and looked out the window, “They gave you a good view.” She was right. Sansa’s new room had large windows that faced one of the many forests of Winterfell. It was Summer so there was no snow, but the landscape still felt soothing. 

“I read some blogs about corrective jaw surgery and they said these things would help.” She dropped the bags on Sansa’s bed and started pulling out random stuff: a one-dollar sleeping mask, a plastic syringe, a handheld mirror. 

Sansa didn’t know how all of those would help but didn’t question it. Her mother was a type A, just like her. Catelyn liked to plan and be prepared. If Sansa hadn’t felt so drained, she probably would’ve done some research herself as well.

“I’ve talked to Jon and he said the boys might get to come visit after their concert in Dorne tomorrow.” Arya said. “They wouldn’t be able to stay for long but they just wanted to see you.”

Sansa’s heart stopped at the prospect of seeing her brothers. She hadn’t seen or talked to any of them in _years._ And they were not only reuniting, but they were seeing her for the first time after she’s had major surgery. She wondered if Theon would also be coming with them. She didn’t want to ask.

Sansa was getting more and more nervous before Dr. Luwin came by. She kept skimming her teeth with her tongue to feel her braces. Every time she felt the cold metal Sansa felt like she was gonna cry. She had worn braces for two years and this all brought her back to her insecure 12 year old self. The orthodontist had also told her that it was rare but they might have to wire her teeth shut. Every time Sansa thought that was a possibility she felt like she couldn’t breath. The thought of having her teeth literally being wired together felt constraining. It was like Joffrey was silencing her from afar, like he was choking the breath and words out of her himself. 

When Dr. Luwin finally came to take her to surgery, Sansa was so anxious that she felt incapable of talking.

She hadn’t said a word to any of his questions, only answering with simple nods or shakes of the head. She was at the surgery table when she finally broke her silence. 

Dr. Luwin had smiled down at her with his surgical mask down his neck. He patted her head and Sansa felt her anxiety soothe slightly. “Don’t worry. I’ve actually done this a couple times before, you know?”

Despite herself, Sansa smiled. She liked the doctor; he had a quality about him that put her more at ease. Enough so that she could feel some of her humor surface. “Just maybe check twice before making any major incisions, yeah?”

He laughed. “Will do. Now start counting out loud from ten.”

“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seeveen…”

Next thing she knew Sansa was in the recovery room, watching a nurse prod her awake. “Sansa, Sansa.”

The nurse smiled when Sansa opened her eyes fully. “There you go.” _Gilly._ That was her name. 

Sansa wasn’t ready for the pain. She thought the pain meds would help but all she could feel was an overwhelming pressure on her face. 

Sansa’s head was up so she could see her mother huddled in the couch in the corner, blankets and pillows skewed around her as evidence of her night spent at the hospital. She immediately sprang up to Sansa’s side and took her hand. Sansa clung to it tightly and tried her best not to cry.

“You know, you have the most beautiful eyes. They light up your entire face,” Gilly said as she checked Sansa’s IV. If Sansa could move or say anything, she would scoff. But her lips were numb along with most of her face. 

“Dr. Luwin said the surgery went perfectly well with minimal bleeding. You’re a little bit swollen right now but the worst of it will be at around 48 hours. It should all be gone within a week.” Gilly reached up and fixed the ice pack that wrapped all around Sansa’s head, almost looking like a headband. “Just press this button over here if you need anything alright.” Sansa nodded as minimally as she could but Gilly seemed to understand and left.

Her mother let go of her hand to grab something from her bag. She took out her pen and a notebook and ripped out a page before propping them on Sansa’s lap. Sansa quickly wrote down her most desperate need. 

_Water._

Sansa found out what the syringe was for when her mother used it to spray water into her mouth. Her mouth and throat felt so dry that Sansa easily drank two cups of water. Her mother sat down on her bed and stroked her hair. “My brave, brave girl.” Sansa closed her eyes and melted into her mother’s touch. It hurt _so much._ What had her life come to?

_By the Old gods and the new, what had she done to deserve this?_

Her mother stroked her hair for a while and eventually Sansa’s thoughts started to cool. She opened her eyes and looked around her room. It was light out but apart from knowing it was the day Sansa had no idea how much time had passed. She pointed at her wrist as if she had a watch and flinched a little from the pain of moving her IV.

Her mother checked the time on her phone. “It’s 8:30 right now.”

Sansa reached for the paper on her lap. 

_Where are the others?_

Her mother read the message and quickly answered. “You father is at work and Arya is at home with Rickon. They wanted to visit when you were awake so she might bring him in an hour or so.” She reached up to fix her hair again. “The boys will be landing at around 19:30 and will be here as soon as they can.”

_What about your work?_

Her mother took longer to answer this message. The hesitation clear on her face. “The other directors are taking over for a while. I’m taking a couple weeks of leave.”

Sansa’s stomach dropped. She couldn’t remember a time her mother had ever taken time off in the middle year for this long. She was leaving something she loved for _Sansa_. 

“I know what you’re thinking but I don’t want you to feel guilty. I want to do this for you, Sansa. I’ve been a terrible mother these past couple years, letting you live in a place like that for so long.” Her eyes watered and she took a second before continuing. “Let me take care of you.”

Sansa reached for her hand and squeezed it tightly, hoping her mother understood how the meaning of this wasn’t lost on her. By the small smile that pulled at her mother’s lips, she had gotten the message.

Sansa had never been more grateful for her mother when she pulled out her computer and two books for Sansa to entertain herself. She also explained the use of the mirror: so Sansa would be able to eat without needing someone to help her.

She opened up her computer and quickly opened Netflix, thankful her parents had gotten a solo room so she could play it out loud. Her mother sat on the couch working on a prayer wheel, one Sansa recognized immediately. Her mother had made a similar one when Bran had broken his spine and almost died; it was to pray to the Seven for the wellbeing of her children.

She turned away and chose a random Friends episode. The show had always succeeded in comforting her and distracting her, and that’s exactly what Sansa needed right now when she felt like her face was stretched like a balloon.

She was still watching Friends when Arya and Rickon came by.

Arya walked in first and sat down at her bed to hug her as much as she could manage. Rickon stood by the door just staring at her. Sansa almost cried at the sight of him. The last time she had seen him he had been a small boy of 8 and now he was 16 and all grown and _tall._

She wished she could tell him how much she missed him. She settled for raising her hand towards him, a clear invitation. Rickon looked at her hand with glassy eyes and rushed over to take it and grip it firmly. “I missed you so much, Sansa.”

She reached over for her loose piece of paper.

 _I missed you too_.

He read the message and smiled at her. She smiled back at him as much as her swollen face would let her. She quickly wrote down the next thing on her mind.

_Tell me about your life and what I’ve missed._

Rickon rubbed his hand up and down his arm. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Sansa shrugged. She didn’t have anything concrete enough to write down. 

Luckily, Arya chimed in. “You could tell her about _Shireeeeen_.” She said the girl’s name like a song and Rickon blushed immediately. 

“There’s nothing to tell.” He quickly snapped back. His glare at Arya nothing short of murderous. 

Their mother looked up from her wheel to give an amused and knowing look. “You have been spending a lot of time at her house.”

“Yeah to study!” Rickon protested. 

_Since when have you studied that much?_ Sansa wanted to ask. But the effort of writing it all down pushed her to just let it go. 

“Whatever you say,” Arya said. “You can tell her about your football team.”

Rickon immediately brightened and turned to Sansa with renewed enthusiasm. “Right! We get to travel for a competition in the Vale next month.”

Rickon rambled about his team and his school issues until it was time for Sansa to eat (or more accurately drink) again. Sansa didn’t mind. She liked to see what mattered to this new “sixteen year old Rickon” she was getting to know again. The old one would talk about Ninja Turtles for hours and she was glad to see that while his focus had changed, his passion still remained the same.

Rickon tried to stay anyways but Arya forced him out, understanding that this was not something Sansa wanted her brother to see.

Sansa felt like a baby as she drank the water mixed with apple juice. It was a messy affair that thankfully her mother helped her through. But Sansa felt helpless and her mother’s worried look whenever Sansa would have to stop, wheezing, and try to regain her breath wasn’t helping. 

Her mouth was also starting to taste weird. Dr. Luwin told her it would take a while before she could properly brush her teeth so she had to settle for using mouthwash to maintain her hygiene.

When she was done, Sansa was so tired that she fell asleep halfway through the first Friends episode she watched.

* * *

Theon was even more antsy than usual when the car started pulling up by the hospital.

He hadn’t been to a hospital in years (not after his own hospitalization) and he couldn’t say he was excited to be in one again. Especially when he knew it was Sansa that would be waiting for their visit.

He hadn’t seen her in years. Not since she had climbed on that train to King’s Landing and had never looked back. 

Theon had missed her so fucking much (especially if the songs he’d written about her over the years were any indication). He had often pictured how he would see her again. Most of his fantasies included her coming home from the holidays or maybe she would come to see one of their shows. None of them included him visiting at the hospital for being beaten up by her abusive ex. 

When Jon had told them all what had happened, Robb had all but stormed up to their agent and demanded that they cancel the tour and go home. After they’d all calmed down a bit, their agent had managed a compromise by letting them visit Winterfell for the night after their show. It was either this or nothing.

All the boys (including Gendry) stepped on the plane as soon as they left the stage. There hadn’t been much conversation during the trip, except for a couple updates that Jon received from Arya. It was like a somber cloud had swept over them, drowning them in the knowledge they were about to see their beaten up younger sister. Gendry didn’t know Sansa personally, but he seemed to understand their need for silence and had kept to himself the entire way.

Theon was drumming his fingers against his knee when they arrived at the hospital. Robb was making his way to the counter when his name called. Robb turned to find his mother waiting for them. Theon had known Catelyn a long time and he had only witnessed her cry once. Bran had broken his spine and Theon had felt like he was invading on the Stark’s privacy as they mourned the tragedy. Robb had fallen asleep and Theon thought it was the perfect moment to sneak out. On his way to the door, he heard someone crying. Not helping himself, he had looked inside the kitchen to find Catelyn sobbing by herself. Theon had been so disconcerted by the image that he ran out of the house and never spoke of it again.

That’s why Theon knew Sansa’s condition must be dire when Catelyn wept into her son’s arms.

She led them to Sansa’s room, telling them that she was asleep and to not disturb her.

Theon was thinking over every possible scenario in his head as they walked to her room. What was he supposed to say to her when she woke up? “I love you and I won’t ever let him touch you again?” Nope, no way was he saying that. Especially that first part. Because it wasn’t true. Well, at least not anymore. He might’ve spent most of his life hopelessly, and endlessly in love with Sansa Stark. But that had faded a long, long time ago. He had no feelings for her whatsoever–

They entered her room and Theon was sure his heart had stopped.

She was almost unrecognizable. If it wasn’t for her red hair, Theon would’ve said the girl sleeping on that bed was not Sansa Stark. Her face was swollen and blotched with bruises, but he could tell that she had lost weight by the sticks that her arms had become.

Theon took a step back, hiding himself behind Robb and Jon. He felt like he was gonna be sick. He also _really_ needed a drink.

He knew Sansa had had surgery and Arya told Jon she looked bad but he never expected to see her like _that_. By the Drowned God, what had happened to her?

Robb had told him about Joffrey and he’d been furious. He’d known it was bad, bad enough that she would abandon her dream because of it. But he hadn’t been prepared to see her like that. He could _never_ be prepared to see her like that.

Had Joffrey hurt her somewhere else he couldn’t see? How long had this been going on? Since the academy? Theon wanted to find that asshole and beat him until he could never lay a hand on anyone ever again. He’d hurt Sansa. _Sansa_ . The best and kindest person he knew by far. How could anyone ever want to inflict harm on someone so fundamentally good? He hadn’t seen her since she was sixteen but there was no way someone could ever do something that warranted such a beating. _What had that blonde prick done to the girl who braided flowers into her hair?_

Theon was someone who was all too familiar with the feeling of anger. He had felt it towards his father for most of his life every time he finished a bottle or lifted a hand against his sister. It had consumed him so much that it drove him into Ramsay’s clutches. Then came the only time in his life where he didn’t feel anger, but in truth it was because he didn’t feel anything at all. 

When he started to feel again, the anger was now directed at himself. He had fucked over his life by getting kicked out of Uni for selling drugs to the wrong person. He wasn’t turned over to the police because they had no concrete proof, but he was suspended indefinitely. He returned to Winterfell feeling nothing but anger and regret over his stupidity. He crashed at his sister’s place, drowning his sorrows in alcohol and drugs until he showed up at Robb’s doorstep and fell apart. He managed to pull himself together, go to rehab and channel his anger into determination for recovery. He wrote a lot. That’s what saved him, his music. Before he knew it, he was singing his songs with the Direwolves again, letting out his anger through melodies.

And now this anger was something else entirely. He wanted to pull Joffrey apart piece by piece. He hurt _Sansa._ He broke her and in Theon’s mind there was no higher crime. 

He wanted to break something. He wanted to break Joffrey. _He really fucking wanted a drink._

Theon didn't even realize he was moving when he felt Robb’s hand on his arm. “Where are you going?”

Theon stopped. “I-uh.” He didn’t know what to say but from Robb’s expression the boy knew _exactly_ where that boy was headed. 

Robb’s eyes seared into him and his grip tightened. “Come on. Sansa would’ve liked you to stay.”

Theon was kept from being distraught at Robb’s alarming use of past tense by Robb’s pointed stare that painted a clear message: _Don’t do it._

Theon shifted, trying to release some tension in his body and sat down on the couch beside Gendry. He snuck another look at Sansa, but looked away when he felt the anger start to consume him again.

Catelyn bid them goodbye and left to go home and rest. 

As soon as she stepped out, something in Robb seemed to crack. He covered his mouth with his hand, his shoulders starting to shake as he tried to contain his sobs. Jon put a hand on his shoulder, his face even more somber than usual. Robb turned around and buried his head in Jon’s shoulder. Jon stumbled back at the impact but quickly returned to his brother’s embrace and clung to him tightly. 

Theon looked down and tugged at his fingers. He could hear Jon’s faint voice say something like “we shouldn’t wake her” and before he knew it, he looked up and found it was just him, Gendry and Sansa.

Gendry was on his phone, typing something out to someone Theon couldn’t see. 

Theon gave a sigh and rubbed his hand over his face. He couldn’t leave her now. So he reached into his backpack and pulled out his song lyric notebook or more accurately: a random collection of thoughts that consume his brain until he puts them to paper.

He wrote what was on his mind and it didn’t come as a surprise when all the words he could come up with were about Sansa. 

Theon was chewing on his pen trying to think of the right word when a loud beeping interrupted his thoughts. For the first time in Drowned God knows how long, his eyes lifted from his notebook to look around. The first thing he noticed was that he was alone; Gendry must have left a while ago. The second thing was that the beeping was coming from Sansa’s heart monitor. 

He jumped up as fast as he could and ran over to her bedside. He froze for a second when he saw that she was awake. He had thought before that she had become unrecognizable but he had been wrong. Those blue eyes of her had remained as piercing as ever.

She was hyperventilating, her chest rising up and down too quickly.

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” 

She grunted in response and he guessed that they were her attempt to speak.

“Oh, fuck right.” She was breathing too quickly, that certainly couldn’t be good. He remembered she used to have panic attacks when she was younger and searched his mind for _anything_ that could help her right now. He reached for her hands and she quickly intertwined their fingers. 

“Sansa, look at me.” Her eyes met his once more and his heart tightened almost as a reflex. “I need you to breathe with me, okay? Squeeze my hands once if you understand.” She squeezed his hands. “Good. Now just look into my eyes and follow my breathing.”

Sansa was always a fast learner (no matter what she thought otherwise) and she mirrored him as he breathed slowly. Eventually, the panic in her eyes seemed to simmer and her wheezes became more and more controlled.

He didn’t want to, but he let go of her hands and sat back slightly. Sansa just kept watching him as if she couldn’t believe he was actually there. 

Theon looked around the room. “Do you have anything to write in?” He didn’t want to give her his notebook (there was too much in there that he didn’t want her to find) but he would if she didn’t have anything else. Thankfully, she reached for something in her bedside table and he quickly got the hint and stood up to get it for her. It was a loose piece of paper filled with so many scribbles that there was barely any white left.

She took a second before writing anything down. 

_I woke up and my nose was so stuffy I felt like I couldn’t breathe._

“Should I call a nurse or…” He trailed him off when she waved him off. 

She wrote down something again. All the words in the page made it confusing for a second; she desperately needed something better than this sheet of paper. 

_No. They said it’s normal._

“Oh, alright.” He looked at anywhere but her, suddenly feeling awkward now that the situation had calmed down. He hadn’t seen her _years._ And it didn’t help that she couldn’t talk; it was weird talking to her knowing that there was no physical way she could clap back with a sassy remark. It was also weird just _being_ around her. His skin burned where she had touched him.

He heard her writing again and tried to control his reaction when he read her message.

_I missed you._

She missed him. Theon looked up to meet her eyes and he could see in them that she meant it. He had missed her too. He had missed her so _fucking much._ Some days he missed her so much that he felt his whole body ache from it.

It was like he spent his entire life at sea without knowing how to swim. She was one of the few pockets of air that kept him from drowning. 

“I missed you too.”

The words had barely come out of his mouth when someone opened the door to her room. Robb and Jon froze at the doorway when they saw that Sansa was awake. 

“Sansa.” Robb set down his bags of takeaway and rushed to her side. Theon got up and moved away to make room for the family reunion.

Robb didn’t say anything else as he took her hand. Theon had never seen his best friend look so murderous. “I’ll kill him. I’ll bring his head to you on a stick if you want me to.”

Sansa smiled as much as she could and squeezed his hand.

Jon stood there, stunned, for a couple more seconds before making his way to Sansa’s other side and gripping her other hand firmly.

Theon couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He had seen both boys struggle first hand with their sister’s disconnection. He was glad to see them together again, even though the circumstances were utter shit.

He walked out as quietly as he possibly could, careful to not disturb the family moment. He caught one last glimpse of the Starks as he closed the door behind him. Robb took a strand of Sansa’s hair and tugged on it lightly, just like he did when they were children. The tenderness in that gesture made his gut tighten. It was _that_ that made him want to be a Stark for most of his life. That easiness they always seemed to have with one another.

Theon smiled to himself and shut the door. 

* * *

Sansa had woken up to find a gift at the feet of her bed: a whiteboard and a marker. There was no note, but she had some idea of who had given it to her. She was now using it constantly to write out her messages instead of that piece of paper.

She was discharged that same day and she had never been more thankful to be home. She was able to rest on the comfort of her own bed, something she hadn’t experienced in years. Her heart ached when she saw that her room remained unchanged. 

But besides being home, Sansa felt weak. She wasn’t able to sleep well because her nose was so stuffy that she felt like she would suffocate. Eating was also a struggle. She was on a strictly liquid diet and every time she ate it was a messy affair. It also didn’t help that as the days went by without being able to brush her teeth, her mouth started to taste worse and worse.

The swelling had gotten really bad after the second and third day after the surgery. Sansa felt like her skin had stretched to its maximum and that if it dared stretch any more that her face would pop. She made the mistake of looking at herself in the mirror. She had recoiled at the sight. She had always been a girl with a round face at certain angles but now she resembled more of a football than an actual person.

She avoided looking at the mirror for the next couple of days.

She also was in so much pain. The worst one was this earache that kept coming back whenever the medicine would fade. Dr. Luwin said it was something about “new pressure in the jaw joint area” and that it would stop after a couple weeks. Sansa prayed to all the gods that it did. She wasn’t sure she could handle this never-ending ache for much longer.

Sansa had her first post-op meeting a week after her surgery and it went surprisingly well. Dr. Luwin replaced her elastic bands and told her that at the next appointment he’d start to be able to show her how to remove her elastic bands for eating and brushing her teeth. Sansa had never been so excited at the prospect of brushing her teeth.

Sansa felt like she was getting more comprehensible as each day went by. Her mother and her sister could now understand her weird, garbled speech but she hadn’t gone outside to try it with other people.

She started to breathe better as well due to some new nasal strips that had worked wonders. She didn’t have any more panic attacks after that.

The house was mostly empty these days. Her mother spent most of the day with her but she had to drop by to check in on the company for a couple hours every day. 

That’s when her and Arya would spend the most time together. She was done with university and had absolutely no clue of what she was doing next. She was staying in Winterfell and working as a bartender until she figured out what she would do with her photography major. She told Sansa that she wanted her photos to _mean something_ , and she was just trying to decide where to go first. Sansa was just happy she was staying for a while. 

Her siblings kept her company through messages. She was added back in the “game of phones” group chat (she had left it claiming ‘it spammed her too much’) and it had become her daily entertainment. Robb would send articles no one gave a fuck about and then everyone would spend 10 minutes roasting him for it. Rickon kept sending memes, but now that he left for his three week summer camp they were all given a break from his spam because he wasn’t allowed to take his phone. Theon would mostly send personalized stickers instead of actually replying (Sansa’s favorite was one of Jon’s “resting brooding face” with the caption ‘fuck these idiots). Sansa started replying every once in a while, still unsure if she fit in with this family anymore.

Sansa first saw Margaery almost two weeks after the surgery. Sansa had frozen in her spot at the sight of her friend in her living room. Margaery hadn’t come to visit her since she’d arrived and Sansa had assumed she either didn’t know or didn’t care. But Margaery’s expression as she took her swollen face told her it was the former. 

Margaery took three steps to pull her in for a hug. “I’m so sorry, Sansa. I was in Highgarden when I heard but I came as soon as I could.”

Sansa stood there for a second before quickly reciprocating the hug. They had lost touch a couple years in the company (as Sansa had with most people) and Sansa didn’t think Margaery would consider her a friend anymore. She hadn’t realized how much she missed her friend from High Garden until this moment.

They pulled apart and Sansa was shocked to see Margaery with tears in her eyes. She had only seen her friend cry a handful of times. The first was when her brother Loras had graduated from the academy and left for Highgarden with his boyfriend. The second was when Margaery herself had graduated. And this would be the third. 

“I shouldn’t have left you. I was _there,_ I should’ve known.”

Sansa grabbed her hand. “ _Don’t_.” Her words were garbled but now was no time to be self-conscious. “I didn’t even know until it was too late.”

Margaery reached up to touch the bruises that still bloomed on her neck from the surgery. Her touch was featherlight as she traced its borders. “I wish I could say I can’t believe he would do something like this but something always felt _off_ about him.” She dropped her hand. “I need you to hear this so don’t try to deny it and comfort me. I should’ve said something sooner. I should’ve told you I didn’t like him when we were in the academy. You were just so happy and I thought I was being paranoid.” Tears started streaming down Margaery’s cheeks as she held Sansa’s gaze. She had never sounded so genuine. “ _I am sorry, Sansa_. I’m so sorry I didn’t do more.”

Sansa took in a shaky breath as she squeezed her friends hand. “I know. But you’re here now.”

Margaery smiled. “And I will never leave your side again.” The usual teasing returned to her expression as she smirked. “For better or for worse.”

“For better or for worse.” Sansa agreed.

“I guess this is the moment where I pronounce you wife and wife.”

Sansa snapped her head over her shoulder to see her sister leaning on the doorway. Arya looked way too amused with herself as she waved them on. “No, go on. You may now kiss your wife.”

“Don’t tempt me, Arya. I actually would if her breath didn’t stink so bad.” Margaery said and threw a wink at Sansa.

Sansa’s mouth dropped and she shoved Margaery away. “I haven’t been able to brush my teeth in weeks, it’s not my fault.”

“I know, love.” Margaery’s nose crinkled. “It still doesn’t stop it from being absolutely horrible.”

Sansa’s mother walked in and Sansa’s smile died at her mum’s somber expression. “What’s wrong?”

Her mother tightened her grip on her phone and sighed. “That was Varys. The date of your trial has been set.”

“Oh.” Her father had kept her updated in the details of the trial. He told her about how they were waiting to set a trial date so she could recover a bit. She also knew that Joffrey had been arrested and charged for rape and sexual assault, harassment, and physical assault. He had made bail for 30,000 silver stags and had been demanded not to contact her. Sansa had taken lots of pleasure in imagining him sitting in a jail cell, however short that time had been. “To when?”

“July 5th.” _Two weeks from now._

Sansa’s heart sunk to her feet. She hadn’t given her trial much thought, choosing to focus on her medical issues. She had taken comfort that all of that was a problem for _later._ She could meet with the prosecutor attorney _later_ . She would find her other witnesses _later._ But now she couldn’t avoid it anymore. On July 5th she would have to face her demons. She will have to get up on the stand and recount her abuse in detail. She will have to _see him._

Sansa stepped back and sunk to the couch. She couldn’t run away anymore.

“This is good, Sansa.” She looked up to stare at Arya in confusion. Arya shrugged before clarifying, “It means this will all be over soon.”

Sansa looked at her hands. Arya had a point. But Sansa had a feeling that this void in her wouldn’t go away anytime soon.

“And besides,” Margaery added and sat down on the couch beside her. “Your brothers come back in two days. Their tour is ending and they’ll be able to be with you through it all.” She bumped her shoulder against Sansa’s. “And you can also go to their concert. Those are usually _quite fun._ ”

Arya snickered and Margaery gave her an unamused glare. Arya started talking before Sansa could ask what that was all about.

“She’s right.” Arya said before taking a seat at Sansa’s other side. “As much as I would love to make fun of them, their concerts _are_ pretty good. You should come.”

“I will. It sounds like fun.” And she meant it.

* * *

Her post-op meeting the next day was incredible. Dr. Luwin showed her how to take off her elastics to eat and brush her teeth and Sansa had listened avidly. He also gave her the go-ahead to eat soft foods like eggs and pasta.

Sansa had cried of happiness when she managed to brush her teeth at last.

Her teeth were still banded shut by the elastics, but she could now speak clearer and without having to repeat herself so often.

Her swelling was also almost completely gone except for a little in the cheeks, nose and under the jaw, and Sansa was brave enough to look at the mirror again. 

These small changes made her lighter. She smiled more and talked more freely (Well, until the elastics started resisting too much and the pain set in. She was just trying to get her point across in 10 seconds or less, but it was better than nothing). 

Even though Sansa still felt utterly broken it was like the jagged pieces were starting to smooth over ever so slightly. It’s what allowed for her to have space in her mind to be excited about seeing the Direwolves perform.

She hadn’t listened to their songs yet and she’d told everyone it’s because she wanted to be surprised but in truth, she was scared. She was scared of what their sound would be like now. She was there when they first picked up instruments and started screaming loudly while calling it “music.” But they weren’t fifteen anymore and she doubted they would play the same stuff.

The day of the concert, Margaery came early in the morning to see her. The first thing she asked was: “What are you planning on wearing tonight?”

Sansa stuttered. “I- I don’t know, yet.” Truthfully she hadn’t thought about that at all. It was so unlike her. Sansa liked to plan her outfit days in advance, usually laying her entire closet at her bed to try and pick a combination. She just hadn’t had the energy to think about it. 

Margaery looked shocked for a moment before quickly going back to her usual brightness. “Well, that’s not a problem. We can go pick something out right now. We should find something for you too, Arya.”

Arya scrunched her eyebrows. “Why? I don’t need your help.”

Margaery scoffed. “You can’t get the Waters boy by wearing _that_.”

Arya looked down at her outfit. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” She was wearing a sweatshirt so long it hit her knees and leggings. Sansa had to admit it wasn’t the best outfit. “And besides, I don’t want to ‘get’ anyone.”

Margaery raised her eyebrows slightly as if to say _suure._ She stood up and pulled Sansa up with her. “Let’s go.”

They spent a while picking the right outfit and Sansa had to admit she felt better than she had in a long time. Margaery’s energy was infectious and soon Sansa’s anxieties about seeing the boys tonight had diminished significantly. But Sansa could tell there was something different about Margaery too. Her actions seemed more calculated, as if she was trying hard not to spook Sansa. Sansa knew there was nothing she could do about it, so she chose to keep quiet about her friend’s occasional wary glances. 

“Well we can’t be too fancy as it is a rock concert after all. Oooh this one is good. Why is their logo crooked?” Margaery pulled out a dark grey shirt with a wolf printed on it that made Sansa’s heart skip.

She remembered the day she got it. It had been in the early stages of their band, a couple months after she’d been accepted into the academy. Robb had figured out how to print their own shirts and had convinced them all they should start making merch. This one had been the first one that Robb printed and Theon laughed when the wolf came out sideways. Theon had tossed it to Sansa. _“Here, Sans. You can take this and when we’re all famous, people will think you’re wearing some knock-offs.”_

Looking at it now made her heart clench in a way she hadn’t felt in years. Sansa swallowed and tried to ignore it. “Robb printed it himself.”

Margaery gave it one more look with a fond smile and tossed it to her. “I guess it’s perfect. Wear that with your black jeans and your leather jacket.” She turned around to her other closet. “Now, let’s look for shoes.”

Sansa caught it and looked down at it. Even years later the shirt was still _extremely_ soft. It felt too personal wearing this shirt to the show. But at the same time, just looking at it filled her stomach with warm memories. Maybe it would be comforting to remember how easy it used to be in the midst of all this complicated mess. 

She ended up wearing it. 

Arya had settled on a Direwolves shirt they’d sold in their last round of merch with a red flannel over it. 

The bruising on Sansa’s face and neck was all gone. As much as she could _feel_ her face was swollen, it was no longer noticeable and she felt comfortable enough to go out in public for the first time. She still took one of Arya’s Direwolves baseball caps (even though there wasn’t that much to cover). It made Sansa feel less exposed.

There was nothing she could do about her braces except smile with her lips closed. Sansa couldn’t wait to take them off, even though she knew it would take months.

When they got to the venue, they managed to get in through a side-entrance because of the tickets they gave them. Sansa’s jaw dropped when they found their place. She had barely managed to grasp the fact that the Direwolves were touring but now… Sansa couldn’t believe the size of this place _._ It was fucking _huge_. And all the seats were packed. 

All these people were there to see her brothers play. She couldn’t believe it. Sansa knew that in the company she became isolated from the part of the world that didn’t revolve around classical ballet. But she didn’t think she would be so out of touch that she wouldn’t know that her brothers had gotten _this_ famous.

They were in a closed off area which Sansa assumed was V.I.P. They were almost touching the stage. Arya came back with two beers and an oreo milkshake (for Sansa) and told them that she let Robb know they were here. 

She didn’t have much time to contemplate before the lights went out, announcing their impending arrival. Screams of anticipation filled the arena and Sansa laughed as one of them yelled “WINTER IS COMING!” She almost forgot the fact that she was going to see her brothers properly for the first time in years. Almost.

Smoke started to fill the stage and suddenly, a blue light came on showing off the outline of the band that had managed to sneak on stage. Sansa felt like she couldn’t breathe as the people around her screamed. _She could recognize their outlines perfectly._ To her right was Jon with his guitar in his hands and his long hair pulled back in a bun. To her left was Robb and her heart clenched at how close he was. She couldn’t see who was on the drums but she assumed that was Gendry, Arya’s not-really-but-kind-of-boyfriend. She immediately recognized the figure standing by the microphone stand, one hand holding the mic and the other with a tambourine. _Theon._

She hadn’t forgotten the way he had calmed her down during her first panic attack at the hospital. In fact, she kept coming back to the way he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb more often than she liked to admit. She hadn’t thanked him yet for the white board. She had considered texting him but she gave up that idea when she saw their last private text was dated eight years ago.

They stood there for a couple moments before Theon brought the tambourine to the microphone and started to [ play. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=54dLepp2b0A) Soon, Robb started to move to join him with a low bass. Gendry started playing soon as well and finally at the end of the measure, Jon played a guitar tune that made all the girls in the audience shriek.

The lights turned on, revealing all their faces and Sansa gasped. They looked all… grown up. They looked the same and yet, at the same time they all changed so much. Remembering how little they were playing random songs in their basement made her heart ache.

Theon moved to the microphone and started to sing. _“_ _So one, two, three, take my hand and come with me because you look so fine that I really wanna make you mine.”_

Sansa felt her stomach flutter as he grinned at the audience nodding his head up and down. He looked amazing. He was no longer the boy who curled awkwardly, unsure of how to use his newly developed body. No, now he was a man that looked like he knew exactly who he was meant to be. It made Sansa’s heart beat even faster if it was even possible.

Sansa still couldn’t believe how much their music had changed. For one, Theon was singing _actual_ words. And their sound was less punk and more rock. She loved it and she hated that she hadn’t been there to see the shift.

Arya nudged her with her shoulder and Sansa unpried her eyes from the stage to face her. The concern in her sister’s voice was obvious before she leaned in and yelled in her year. “Are you okay?”

Sansa felt like her lungs were contracting and about to explode out of her chest. She felt like her blood had turned into fire. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it but she could feel the swollen parts of her face burn ever so slightly. But she wasn’t sure she could ever move from this spot ever again. 

She nodded and smiled, then took a long sip of her milkshake that had Arya raising her eyebrows. 

Sansa faced the stage again. Her eyes now trained on Robb and how he bit his lip in concentration. 

She spent most of the concert hiding under the shadow of her hat, watching the boys she once knew like the back of her hand own the stage. They looked almost like strangers. 

“Now, we’ve been waiting for the entire tour to play this song here. So you lot better sing along.” Theon said into the microphone, grinning as the audience cheered. He looked sweaty and tired but Sansa thought he had never looked better. “Now, that’s what I like to hear. This one was named after this amazing city, [ Winterfell ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VX6TxElQqNs).”

The way the audience screamed made it clear this one was a crowd favorite. Sansa could tell immediately by the way Theon was singing that he had written this one. He looked more attached somehow. Sansa could see all the pain in him as he sang the lyrics, his eyes closed and his hand pulling at his hair. _“So I hit my head up against the wall.”_

He crouched down in time with the music, the audience singing along behind her. “ _Over and over and and over and over again.”_

He pointed the microphone to the audience and they sang the next line back to him. “ _And again.”_

He pulled the microphone back to his mouth. _“‘_ **_Cause I don’t wanna be like them_ ** _._ ”

He was walking closer and closer to her with every line but Sansa was so entranced by his performance that she forgot to be scared. 

“ _I left my heart in Winterfell. Where I could dream and nights were long. I left my heart in Winterfell–_ ” He cut off weirdly at the end of the line and that’s when Sansa _knew_ he had seen her. He was looking straight at her, his mouth slightly open and eyes filled with so much emotion that it hurt. The microphone was slack in his hands as they held eye-contact. Sansa felt like she couldn’t breathe as his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. He was so distracted that he missed the beginning of the next line and snapped himself out of it to catch the end of it. “ _–against the wall._ ”

Sansa wanted to look away, to look down and blend into the crowd. But she couldn’t. It was like she was being held by a spell. And by the way he kept singing and holding her gaze it seemed like he was under the same spell too. _“_ _Over, over, over. Again and again and then over. Over, over. Again and again and then over.”_

He started to walk backwards, but still kept eye contact. His chest heaved as he sang harder and louder. _“Over, over. Again and again and then over. Over, over.”_

He finally broke her stare to close his eyes and face the roof. His face showing more pain and suffering that Sansa had ever seen before as he sang. _“So I hit my head up against the wall."_

_"Over and over and over and over again, and again.”_

Sansa looked down to hide her face as she wiped away the tears. “ **_'Cause I don't wanna be like them_ **.”

She closed her eyes and kept her eyes shut for the rest of the song. But still, she could his piercing gaze against her eyelids.  
  
 _"Oh, I left my heart in Winterfell._

_Oh, I left my heart in Winterfell._

_Oh, I left my heart in Winterfell._

_I really need that feeling back, yeah."_

Applause and cheers exploded and Sansa still refused to open her eyes, it only made her squeeze them together harder as she tried to catch her breath. 

“Thank you, Winterfell.” Theon’s voice was shaken and his laugh came out a little forced. “It’s been a pleasure. Goodnight!”

The audience cheered for Gods know how long before Sansa felt someone grab her hand. She opened her eyes to find Arya in front of her looking as concerned as ever. She seemed hesitant to speak but eventually leaned in to yell at Sansa’s ear. “Do you want to go backstage?”

Sansa hesitated and shook her head. Arya looked surprised, but then her face shifted to worry. Sansa leaned closer to yell in her ear. “I’m tired and I have a meeting with my attorney first thing.”

Arya nodded but she still looked apprehensive. “Do you need a ride?”  
  
She shook her head. “I’ll take an Uber.”

She turned around and as soon as she left the stadium she stopped to take a moment. That had been so much more intense than she thought it would be. She didn’t understand why he had affected her so much. Maybe it was because he had looked at her like he could see all the pain that she was feeling? Or maybe it was because she felt like she had caught him in a vulnerable moment, singing about his past abuse? Or maybe it was because Theon had always understood her, even when she couldn’t understand herself?

Sansa shook herself off. She texted some apologies to Robb and told them about her meeting tomorrow. She was already in her Uber when they replied.

**Robb:** Oh yeah that’s okay, I understand.

 **Robb:** We’re stopping by Mum’s for breakfast so we’ll see you tomorrow

 **Robb:** I hope you liked the show :)

She smiled and proceeded to text him a paragraph long message telling him all the amazing things about their concert.

* * *

The next day already felt taxing by the simple effort to pick her clothes. She had no idea what was appropriate to wear to a meeting with your prosecutor attorney. She eventually settled on her nice black pants and a green blouse with a blazer. She put her hair up in a ponytail and put only a basic amount of makeup. She flashed her teeth in front of the mirror and held back a grimace at the weird braces that stared back at her. She _hated_ the braces so much. She practiced a couple close lipped smiles that would help her hide her metal mouth before deciding there was nothing more she could do.

Jon had offered her a ride and Robb was going to take her back home. 

They rode mostly in silence and when they pulled up outside of the district courts he asked her. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Sansa bit her lip, it was a tempting offer. “No, it’s okay. This is something I have to do on my own.”

Jon nodded, still looking her up and down. “Well if you change your mind, call me.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Jon. I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll see you.”

She climbed out of the car and took a second to breathe before climbing up the steps. She found the prosecutor’s office easily enough and he introduced himself as Davos Seaworth before quickly starting to rattle to her about her case and about what she should and shouldn’t do. Sansa was trying hard to focus, she really was. But she felt like she was underwater, everything around her slow and blurry. Her head was pounding and Sansa resisted the urge to push her palms against her eyes. She really wished she had taken Jon up on his offer.

She answered his questions about Joffrey on auto-pilot. She told him about why she was scared of him, feeling bile come up at her throat. She gave him the files with the pictures her mother had taken of her after the surgery as evidence. But now that her hands were empty, she had to bury her nails in her palms to stop them from trembling. 

She was so in her head that she barely registered when Davos asked her who they could subpoena for witnesses. She quickly recovered and told him about someone she’s been thinking of for a while. Her name was Ros and she and Sansa had never grown close, but the indifference was much better than the searing hate she got from most of the other dancers. The company had screwed Ros over by dropping her contract after she offended Joffrey. Sansa never said anything. But neither had Ros when she’d seen Joffrey pin Sansa to a wall and yell at her. 

They weren’t friends, but maybe they’d learn to speak out together.

“I’m not sure she’ll be very talkative though. We weren’t really close enough for her to stand up against the Lannisters.”

“Leave that to me. Trust me, by the day your trial comes she’ll be more than willing to speak her truth.” Davos closed his folder and stood up to shake her hand. “Now, I’ll send you more details later and we’ll see each other at the hearing. Have a good day–”

Sansa had stopped listening and bid her goodbye. She walked to the nearest bench and tried not to faint. She was shaking from head to toe as she took a seat. Her whole body gave out and Sansa started to sob. She hated this. She felt so helpless and she couldn’t stop shaking. Her sobs were turning harsher, pulling out the air completely out of her lungs.

“Hey, Sansa. _Hey_ .” Theon came up at her side, his arm wounding immediately around her shoulders. _What the fuck was he doing there?_ Sansa didn’t really care at the moment.

“I can’t stop shaking.”

“Sansa.”

Sansa shook her head. “No, _no_ . I don’t understand. _Why can’t I stop shaking?_ He’s out there and he’s fine and I’m here and I can’t stop fucking shaking. _It’s not fair and–_ ” She stopped mid-sentence when the elastics pulled too long and the pain set in, and she lifted her hand to cover her mouth. She couldn’t even speak without her teeth and gums aching and _it wasn’t fair._

“I know.” He pulled her closer and she turned to bury herself in the crook of his neck. 

“I’m just a stupid, _stupid_ girl.”

“You’re not stupid.” He protested quickly. He grabbed on to her other shoulder to pull her from him so he could meet her eyes. Theon reached up to wipe her tears as she continued to breathe heavily. “You’re the smartest person I know, Sansa. You’re just a little fucked up right now, and you have every right to be.” Sansa’s breath hitched as she continued to stare into his eyes. He pushed some of her hair out of her face ever so gently. Theon was always gentle with her. “This whole thing, it fucking sucks. It’s hard but you’re not going through this alone, okay?” 

Sansa kept his gaze for a couple more seconds before nodding. He nodded back at her and pulled her into him, her nose finding the crook of his neck once more.

Sansa let herself take one more deep breath before pulling herself from him. “What are you doing here, Theon?”

His arm dropped from her shoulders and she almost winced at the loss of his warmth. “Robb got caught up at the agency and they wouldn’t let him leave. He asked me to pick you up.”

She nodded and wiped at her face. “Well, thanks. I’m glad you were here.”

He looked her up and down and gave her a small smile. “Anytime.” He shifted to bring both his elbows against his legs, facing away from her. “Do you want me to take you home or do you want to stop and get something to eat?”

“I can’t really eat anything too solid.” She flashed her teeth, her braces glinting in the light. “It’s a little thing called a broken jaw.”

He laughed lightly. “Right. How could I ever forget?”

Sansa tucked the strands that had fallen loose from her ponytail behind her ear. She thought of what her parents would ask and of the bed she knew she’d crawl into as soon as she could. “But I don’t wanna be home right now.”

Theon raised his eyebrows in surprise. He quickly recovered and fidgeted with the phone in his hand. “Well, how about we pick up some smoothies on the way and we can go back to mine and Robb’s place. You haven’t been there before, yeah?”

Sansa shook her head.

Theon grinned and leaned back to mess up his hair. “Well, it’s exactly what you’d expect from us two slobs sharing a flat.”

Despite herself, Sansa smiled. “I can’t wait to see it.”

Sansa curled into herself into the seat and looked out the window throughout the drive. She was lost in her own thoughts and Theon didn’t comment, just leaving her be. They picked up some smoothies on the way as promised (she got a “blueberry burst” and he got a “tropical twist”) and they also got a couple donuts, since she knew that they would be able to fit the small opening between her teeth. Soon enough, they had reached the boys’ flat.

“I would like to apologize for the mess in advance.” Theon reached into his pockets for his keys. “I’d like to say we would’ve cleaned up if we’d known we’d have visitors but you know both of us too well to know that’s utter bullshit.”

She laughed and made her way inside behind him. The apartment was bigger than she thought it would be (but she had mostly imagined it to be a sketchy hovel so it wasn’t much competition). 

He turned back to her and nodded towards the living room. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to get us some blankets.”

She took time to explore, looking at every photo they had displayed. There was one of Theon with his sister, Yara. It looked pretty recent. “How’s Yara?”

“She’s good,” Theon’s voice sounded out from down the hall. “She’s got her own pub now, down at 23rd Street.”

“That’s so cool.” 

Sansa faltered at a picture of her family. She picked the frame up, Arya was wearing a cap and gown so she assumed it was Arya’s high school graduation. Sansa was blatantly missing from the photo and she quickly set it down.

Sansa frowned as her eyes caught on another picture. She picked it up and looked at it in confusion.

“I couldn’t find any but this big christmas one, but at least it’s fluffy and–”

She turned around and interrupted him by flashing him the picture in her hand. “Are Robb and Margaery dating?”

Theon stopped in his tracks. He looked at the picture, one with Robb holding Margaery pressing a kiss on her cheek, and then back at her. “Uhhh…maybe?”

“Theon.”

He sighed and tossed the blanket in his arms on the couch. “Yes, they are.”

“Why didn’t they tell me?” Sansa felt betrayed, her brother and her best friend were dating and they hadn’t even bothered to tell her about it.

Theon took a seat on the couch and rubbed his face with his hands. “This is really a conversation you should be having with them.”

“ _Theon_.”

He groaned and lifted his hands from his face. “Fine. With everything, they wanted to give you some time to settle in and all that before they told you.”

Sansa set the picture down and crossed her arms. “It’s been weeks, that’s plenty of enough time.”

Theon looked like he very much wanted to bury himself into a hole rather than have this conversation. “Another reason why you should be talking this through with _them_ rather than with me.”

Sansa huffed. It was obvious that he felt uncomfortable talking about this but this was _big_ . Her best friend and her brother were dating. And not a casual fling, _no_ , they were serious picture-frames-with-kisses-on-cheeks type of serious. She sat down beside him on the couch and decided to ask one last question. “How long have they been together?”

“Almost three years I think.”

“ _Three years?_ ” That was a long time. An even longer time when you took in effect that Sansa found out about it only now. It was just another reminder of how disconnected from everything she’d really been. She was getting tired of those. 

She rested her face in her hands. “I could really use a drink right now. Do you have anything?”

“Sorry, we don’t.”

Sansa wanted to hit herself. Of course a recovering alcoholic wouldn’t have alcohol in his house. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._ “Right. Sorry, I forgot.”

He waved away her apologies and draped the blanket across both their laps. Sansa had to admit it was pretty fluffy.

She looked around their flat one more time. “When did you guys get this place?”

“A couple years ago.” He took a sip of his smoothie. “We were living in this shite hole downtown but we upgraded when we signed our contracts.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“No, it was pretty bad. But it was all I could afford at a minimum wage salary and I had to get off my sister’s couch.” He shrugged. “Robb followed me for some insane noble reason of ‘not wanting to leave me alone’ as always.”

Sansa watched him for a couple moments. “I wanted to apologize.”

He scrunched his eyebrows. “What for?” 

Sansa bit her lip and looked down at her smoothie to avoid his eyes. “For not being there for you when you needed me. I should’ve been there. I should’ve done more.” She stopped when her teeth started to hurt.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done, Sansa.” He looked down at his hands. “I’ve always been good at disappearing when I want to.”

She reached over to lay a hand on his shoulder. “But you came home, like you promised.” 

He smiled at her and she soon returned it. “So did you.”

They dove into the donuts and tried to decide what movie to watch. She eventually snatched the control from him and put on Pride & Prejudice despite his loud protests. When he stopped his grumbles and she leaned her head on his shoulder, Sansa found that she was glad she’d come home.

* * *

  
The days leading to the trial felt like the longest and shortest days of Sansa’s life. She felt like her life had been reduced to a countdown, and every second that ticked by brought her closer and closer to her doom.

Her family tried her best to make her feel better in their own way but they were all driving her mad. Robb kept making sure she was alright all the time, if she shivered slightly he would conjure a blanket to drape across her shoulders in seconds. Jon was brooding more than usual, and she snapped at him a couple times when she felt him staring at her like she was a walking corpse. Arya became more brutal and protective of Sansa; when they walked the street she would yell at random strangers who would look at her for a little too long. Her father kept giving her hugs (which weren’t all that bad and were actually pretty comforting) but his constant pats on her back almost sent her flying across the room. Her mother thought the best distraction was talking about ballet; every conversation they would have would come back to ballet and how Sansa would train to get back on her feet. Every time her mother brought up dancing, Sansa would feel like she was shrinking into herself. She didn’t have the heart (or the courage) to tell her mum that she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to dance again.

Sansa tried to distract herself by focusing on her jaw recovery, but she was so _tired_ . She was tired of the pain, of the ache in her teeth when she spoke too long, of the smashed foods and of how long it took just to eat simple things. She just wanted to rip the metal braces off her teeth with her hands and let her mouth be free. But she couldn’t. _She could never be free of him._

She shook that thought away and focused on her computer screen again. She was rewatching Modern Family, the humor of the show never failing to make her feel a little bit better.

Someone knocked on the door and Sansa wasn’t surprised when Robb was the one who came in (he was the only one who knocked). “Mum made you some tea.”

“Thanks.” 

He smiled at her and dropped the mug at her bedside table. Sansa had been itching to ask him about Margaery but she had never been able to catch him alone. He started to leave and Sansa paused the show, deciding this was the best she was gonna get. “Are you dating Margaery?”

He froze and Sansa could see his shoulders sag in resignation. He turned around to face her and shoved his hands in his pockets. “How did you find out?”

“I went to your apartment a couple days ago.” She reached over to grab her mug and blew on it softly. “I saw a picture of you two and I asked Theon about it.”

Robb swore under his breath but looked unsurprised. “Theon was never a good secret keeper.”

“Yeah, remember when we were kids and he told Mum about the Bowling Pin incident?”

Robb laughed and looked down at his hands. “Yeah, I swear Mum has never forgiven us for that.”

Sansa smiled, “No, she hasn’t.”

They held each other’s eyes for a couple seconds, the air suddenly feeling heavy. Robb gave another sigh and sat down at the foot of Sansa’s bed. “I’m sorry, Sans. We wanted to tell you but you just went through _so much_ and we didn’t know how to say it. We just thought we should give you some space and time to heal.”

Sansa traced the rim of her mug with her finger. “Well, that was really stupid. You should’ve told me.” She looked up to meet his eyes and Robb looked away in guilt.

“I know.”

“But you’re lucky that my list of things to be mad about is kind of full at the moment, and I’m just too tired to be mad about something so good.”

He met her eyes again. A hopeful smile creeping on his face. “Yeah?”

Sansa nodded, a small smile playing at her lips as well. “Yeah.” She took a sip of her tea. “Now, you must tell me _everything._ How did you two meet?”

Robb’s demeanor brightened, obviously relieved that he wouldn’t be submitted to one of Sansa’s lectures. “I came by the company to drop off some keys that Mum forgot when I bumped into Marg. We talked and she was so charming that I couldn’t help myself and asked her out on a date after just a couple of minutes.” He laughed slightly at the memory. “We’ve been dating ever since.”

He shrugged and spoke the next sentence with so much conviction that it scared her. “I love her, Sansa.”

Sansa smiled at him and leaned over to take his hand. “I am so glad that you two found happiness together,” she squeezed his hand, “you deserve it.”

“Thanks, Sans.”

They both stared at each other for a couple seconds before Robb broke the tension with an awkward laugh. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Okay.” She let go of his hand and he left her room giving her one last grateful smile.

* * *

Sansa woke up on July 5th and was immediately filled with a sense of dread that didn’t leave her for the rest of the day.

Breakfast was a tense affair. Robb, Jon, Theon and Margaery were all there to show their support. The only words that were spoken were trivial things like “pass the butter”. Sansa couldn’t bring herself to eat. She only took a couple bites out of her toast before feeling like she was going to puke. She didn’t say a word.

Her parents drove her and Arya to court, the rest driving close behind in Jon’s van. Sansa fidgeted with her blouse, Margaery had helped her pick out an outfit, and tried with no avail to stop thinking about seeing Joffrey again. 

Davos had updated her on what would happen, he and the defense would both give opening statements, and then there would be the witness testimony and then cross-examination. He had prepped her for the cross-examination and she was still _terrified_.

They waited by the steps for the rest of the family to join them and then they walked into the building together. 

When they reached the courtroom Sansa stopped walking outside the door and most of her family filtered in, not noticing she wasn’t following anymore.

Sansa clenched her fists and tried to control her breathing. _It’s fine. It’s just Joffrey. You don’t even have to talk to him. It’s just Joffrey. It’s just Joffrey. It’s just Joffrey._

“Sansa?” Theon’s arm was on her shoulder. _Of course_ , he’d been the one to notice her absence. “Are you alright?”

Sansa shook her head, tears already coming to her eyes. “I can’t face him. _I can’t._ ”

“Hey–” He brought her into a hug which she quickly reciprocated, burying her head in his shoulder. He rubbed soothing circles on her back and hushed her quietly. “I know. I know.”

He pulled apart from her to grab her shoulders. “But you need to go in there, Sansa. I know it’s hard but it’s the last time you’ll ever have to see his slimy face ever again. You have to do this so that bastard can get what he deserves.”

“ _What if they don’t believe me?_ ” She whispered, a thought she’d been too afraid to voice out loud for weeks.

“You’re speaking the truth, Sansa. And the truth always comes out. And remember, no matter what the jury says… _we_ believe you.”

Sansa pursed her lips and took a couple deep breaths before nodding. 

He nodded back at her and placed a hand on her lower back to lead her into the courtroom.

Sansa walked in, trying to keep her head high despite how small she felt. She walked to the front row of benches and took her seat on Davos’s side, avoiding looking over at _him_. She looked to her right and could see all her family, Margaery and Theon sitting along the row. They all gave reassuring smiles and Sansa couldn’t help but smile back. Whatever the outcome, they would always be there for her. She took that thought and kept it close to her heart, hoping it would be enough to comfort her through this painful process. 

Davos managed to rehash a couple more things before the door opened. Someone said “All rise” and they all stood up from their seats as the judge walked in. She was a middle-aged woman with long scarlet hair. She had a serious face that spoke of no-nonsense. Her placard read _Judge Melisandre._

“Be seated.

Everyone took their seats again as Judge Melisandre settled in

“Okay, before we start I’d like to say that the court takes these types of allegations very seriously,” She looked to both parties with glare that could kill, “and I plan to get to the bottom of this. Let’s begin.”

Sansa didn’t pay much attention to Daavos’ speech. She knew he would just be reccounting what she went through and she didn’t really need a reminder of what her trauma was. So she took the time to look at the jury. They all looked like regular people, but these people would be the ones to decide whether Sansa got justice for what was done to her.

She paid attention when Joffrey’s defense attorney came up to give his speech. She recognized him immediately. It was Tyrion Lannister, one of the most renowned lawyers in all of Westeros, and also Joffrey’s uncle. Sansa had to admit, Tyrion was very good with words. The way he painted Joffrey as a good person alarmed her. If she didn’t know any better she would be inclined to think Joffrey was a good person too, and that’s what petrified her.

Davos then spoke again and this time, Sansa paid attention. He showed the jury pictures of Sansa the day she got to Winterfell. Sansa flinched at the girl she saw on the screen: her face was swollen and purple and her mouth drooping slightly to the side. Daavos also showed pictures Catelyn had taken of her post-op, Sansa had hated taking those pictures but now she was grateful. It would show the jury what Joffrey was capable of and maybe this way it would be harder to believe Tyrion’s pretty words. 

Davos gave the jury copies of the threatening text messages Joffrey had sent her before she blocked him. Looking at the horrific threats he’d sent her, Sansa was grateful she had opted to blocking him immediately.

As expected, she was the first witness called to the stand.

She moved to the front to be sworn in and tried to keep her hand from trembling. “Do you solemnly swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, by the Old Gods and the New?

“I do.” Her voice was strong considering how Sansa felt on the verge of a panic attack.

“Please be seated.”

She took her seat and for the first time in months, she met Joffrey’s eyes. Her blood froze at the sight of his face. His cruel, beautiful face that had brought her more pain and misery than she ever thought. He had _ruined her_ , shattered her and now here she was trying to pick up the pieces. _She hated him. She hated him. She hated him_

“Ms. Stark.”

She snapped her eyes from Joffrey and focused on Davos. She was here on a mission: to tell the truth and give Joffrey what he deserved. She couldn’t forget that.

“Could you recount to me what happened with Mr. Baratheon?”

She knew she would have to say this and she was prepared. “Yes, we had just finished our performance, where I had messed up slightly. As soon as the curtains closed, he grabbed me and pulled me backstage.” She took a deep breath. “He yelled at me, claiming I ruin everything and then he slapped me across the face with the back of his hand.”

Davos nodded, as if he was just learning this. “And was it that slap that broke your jaw?”

“Yes.”

“Has he ever hurt you like this before?”

Sansa became painfully aware of her family in the seats and took a deep breath. “Yes.”

“How did he hurt you?”

“He used to bruise me a lot, mostly on the waist where no one could see.” She looked down at her lap. “He would throw me up against walls, and pin me there as he punched me.” She stopped talking, her teeth already aching from all the talking. She would have to bear through it, they were barely starting.

“When was the first time Mr. Baratheon was physically aggressive with you?”

“It was about… four years ago. I was nineteen. I can’t remember what I’d done wrong but he’d gotten so mad that he threw a smoothie at my face.”

Davos walked closer to her and she could tell by the look on his face that the next question would be a hard one. “Has Mr. Baratheon ever sexually assaulted you?”

Sansa buried her nails in her arm and tried hard not to think of her family in the stands. “Yes, he has.”

“How many times?”

Sansa’s eyes started to water and she looked down at her lap. She couldn’t look at Davos and she couldn’t risk making eye-contact with her family. She didn’t want to see their reactions once they realized what their little girl had suffered through. “I lost count.”

“Ms. Stark,” Sansa looked to the right to face the judge, “I know a lot of women who stay with their abusers. Why did _you_ stay?” Her face wasn’t judgemental, it looked as if she was genuinely trying to figure out the logic behind Sansa’s decision. 

Sansa took a moment to try to think of the answer. “My whole life was there. I had my career that I spent so long building. I had my apartment with all of my possessions. For a while, the consequences of leaving him outweighed the bad. And then it didn’t and that’s when I left.”

Judge Melisandre nodded, her face revealing nothing.

“Now Ms. Stark, could you tell me how surviving this crime has affected your life?”

Sansa turned back to face Davos and took a deep breath. “Well for starters, I am in physical pain _all the time._ The jaw surgery put me through unimaginable suffering that I still have to face every day. I can’t eat or speak properly. Even talking this long makes my mouth hurt.” She paused and brushed her fingers lightly over her mouth. “It also cost me my job. I can’t work anymore because I had to break my contract to leave King’s Landing. I won’t be able to dance professionally for two years which might as well be the death of my career as a ballerina. I lost _everything_.” Her voice cracked and she closed her eyes trying to regain her composure.

“Thank you, Ms. Stark. That will be all, your honor.” Davos gave Sansa a comforting nod before turning back to the desk.

“Well, I think it’s time for a break.” Judge Melisandre banged her gavel and everyone started to move immediately.

Sansa’s eyes did not leave the ground as she walked over to meet her family. Her mother was the first one to move, clinging to her daughter as if her life depended on it. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again, my dear girl.”

Sansa nodded into her mum’s shoulders and closed her eyes to prevent the tears from falling down. 

“Come on, Sans.” Jon’s voice sounded out, steady as always. “Let’s get you some coffee.”

She nodded and pulled from her mother’s embrace. She followed Jon out of the courtroom glad to leave the intensity of it all for a little while. She drank her coffee and tried to make her mind blank for a couple moments. 

Before she had time to fully process, she was being dragged back into the courtroom.

She took a seat as Tyrion Lannister stood up reviewing his notes. When he looked up at her, she thought he could see pity and guilt in his eyes. But it was gone in a flash, replaced by blank determinance.

“Ms. Stark, when did your relationship with Mr. Baratheon start?”

“When I was fifteen.”

“And after you graduated from high school you decided to continue the relationship, am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“And all your family and friends knew all the details of your relationship?”

“Well, um…maybe not all.”

Tyrion paused, making a face of pure innocence. But Sansa knew better. The fire in his eyes told her that he was going to go in for the kill. “Did you tell your friends when you told him you loved him for the first time?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell them when you and Mr. Baratheon had sex for the first time?”

“Uh- yes. I did.”

“And did you call your friends to talk about the fights you had in the beginning of your relationship? When you were both still in high school?”

“Well, yes.”

“But did you tell them about the first time that he lay a hand on you?”

“I-Um-No… I didn’t.”

“And why is that?”

Sansa looked at her family once before looking down at her lap. “I didn’t want to worry them.”

“But you told them about the other fights, as you claimed not mere seconds ago, did you not?

“Yes but-”

“So you are claiming that you told your family and friends about every significant moment in yours and Mr. Baratheons' relationship but you didn’t tell them about the first time he hit you?”

“Well, yes but-”

“So then how are we meant to believe that this event truly occured when you didn’t even bother to tell your family?”

“It wasn’t-”

“How can you sit there and _lie_ to the court about the true events of your relationship with the defendant? How can you sit there and attack this brave young man of atrocities-”

“Objection!” Davos stood up. “Badgering.”

Sansa closed her eyes, taking this second to recompose herself and stop the tears from streaming down. She knew this would happen. No one would believe her.

“Sustained.”

She buried her nails in her palms, trying to calm her breathing, and opened her eyes. Tyrion looked down for a moment and then met Sansa’s watery gaze. The guilt was back in his eyes and he opened his mouth to say something, before closing it again once more. He shook his head and turned back to the desk. “That’ll be all, your honor.”

Sansa let out a sigh of relief. The hard part was over (mostly). She wiped her tears quickly before they could fall and stood up from the stand.

When it was Joffrey’s turn to be torn to shreds, a part of her felt a little joy at seeing him floundering. But most of her actually felt weak and… tired.

“But if you claim that you didn’t hit her, how do you think she broke her jaw?” Davos raised an eyebrow and stared Joffrey down. “She… _fell_?”

Joffrey didn’t balk from his stare and shrugged. “Maybe. All I know is that it wasn’t me. I could never hurt her.” Sansa had long discovered that Joffrey felt no human emotion, every feeling he showed was pure imitation. She could see the lifeliness in his eyes as he tried to convince the jury of his innocence. 

He turned his gaze towards Sansa and every muscle in her body tensed immediately. But she didn’t look away. _No_ , she was strong, despite everything he had done to her. The cruelty she was ever so familiar with returned to his eyes, almost screaming a sentence she had heard several times over the past couple of years. _Filthy little bitch._ “How could I ever hurt someone I love?”

She didn’t flinch. She held his stare, pouring every ounce of fury she had into it. He had belittled her, put her through _weeks_ of unimaginable pain. He had taken her career and her relationship with her family from her. _I would cut off your head if I could._

He snarled and looked away.

* * *

Sansa thought the cross-examination was the worst part, but she was wrong. Waiting for the verdict was far worse.

Her family decided to take her out for dinner, hoping to distract her. It would take hours, maybe even days, for the jury to come to a decision.

Sansa played with the straw on her milkshake, not paying any attention to the usual loud conversation of her family around her. She tried to calm her thoughts to no avail. 

What if they didn’t believe her? What if they pronounced him not guilty? What if-

She felt someone rest a hand over hers and she turned to face her sister on her left. Arya smiled at her and Sansa intertwined their fingers, giving her hand a squeeze. 

Her father’s phone rang and the whole table went silent. He picked it up, face solemn as ever. 

“Hello?…Yes…Already?...Alright, we’ll be right there.” 

He hung up and met Sansa’s eyes. “The jury came to a verdict. We need to head back to the courtroom.”

Sansa felt her stomach tighten in dread and anticipation but her sister squeezed her hand, and Jon put his hand on her shoulder, and Robb gave her his ever-warm smile, and her mother had already left to get her car because she knew there was no time to waste, and Theon’s eyes were filled with understanding, and Margaery was looking through her purse for her lucky lip gloss, so maybe, _just maybe_ , with everyone she loved around her, things would be okay.

When Judge Melisandre walked back into the courtroom, Sansa’s hand tightened around Arya’s so hard that she was afraid she had broken her sister's fingers.

“Members of the jury, have you reached a verdict?”

A young woman with brown hair stood up. “Yes, your honor, we have.”

“Members of the jury, on the Case of Baratheon vs. Westeros, what you say?”

And then there was a pause. So heavy and filled with tension that Sansa felt her life pass through her eyes in that one second.

“Your honor, the members of this Jury find the defendant guilty.”

Sansa let out a cry of relief and clamped a hand over her mouth.

 _Guilty. Guilty. Guilty._

He was guilty.

They had believed her.

“Mr. Baratheon.” Judge Melisandre stared Joffrey down with an anger she hadn’t shown throughout the entire trial. “You have treated this woman as if she were your property. Your actions were pure evil. And because of this, you have lost the privilege of living in a free society. I am sentencing you to 36 months in prison, as well as a fine of 10,000 silver stags. This court is adjourned.”

Sansa cracked and buried her face in her hands. Her body shook as she sobbed, weeks, months, _years,_ of suffering had led to this moment. Sansa thought it would be more gratifying. But she just felt immense relief that this was all over. It was over. It was over. It was _over._

* * *

The criminal trial drained her. Having Joffrey so close by and having to rehash everything that she had gone through was like opening up a barely healed wound with a sharp object. The feeling of relief faded and now Sansa seemed to have lost all of her energy, not even bothering to get out of bed to eat. 

Her siblings came to keep her company a lot. Margaery did too. 

Theon came after a while as well. She smiled when his head popped in and already scooched over to make space for him. 

“What are we watching?”

“Friends.”

When he laid down with her, she could tell he was itching to say something. He wasn’t like Robb who would fill her with pretty words or Jon and Arya who would sit with her in silence. So she bid her time and waited, watching Rachel mess up the trifle in the meanwhile.

“When was the last time you got out of bed?”

Sansa hesitated. She could feel his eyes bearing into her but she kept her focus on her laptop screen. “When was the trial again?”

“Sansa… it’s been a month.” 

She turned to face him, her left cheek leaning on her pillow as she met his eyes. His face was open and free of judgement. “You need to talk to someone.” 

“I talk to people all the time. I’m talking to you right now.”

“You know what I mean.” He was speaking in a low voice, almost as if he was afraid of scaring her off. “You need to talk to a trained professional. That’s the only way you’ll start to heal.”

Laughter brought her attention back to her laptop and away from Theon’s searing eyes. “I don’t even know if I can.”

“Yes, you can. You can do anything you set your mind to.”

She bit her lip and turned her head to face him again. “Okay.” His face fell with relief. “But does it have to be right now? Phoebe is about to yell out her love for Jacques Cousteau.”

He gave a slight laugh and shook his head. “No, it doesn’t have to be right now.”

They watched the rest of the episode in silence.

* * *

Sansa looked around her new therapist’s office, taking in the paintings and flowers. After only a couple meetings, Sansa quite liked her. Her name was Shae, and she spoke with a foreign accent that curled her tongue. She was very honest and unlike what Sansa thought a therapist should be. But she liked her.

“I see your doctor has cleared you for physical activity.”

“Mhm.”

“Have you been planning on dancing again?”

Sansa pulled at a loose string of her sweater. “Well, that’s what my mother wants.”

“What about you? Do you want to start dancing soon?”

“I- I don’t know.” The truth was that whenever she thought about dancing again all she could think of was Joffrey’s hands tightening around her waist.

Shae looked her up and down. “When was the last time you danced for fun?” 

“I’m sorry?”

Shae tapped her pen on her leg and raised an eyebrow at Sansa. “I don’t mean dancing for performances or rehearsals to prepare for the performances. When was the last time you danced just because you felt like it?”

Sansa stared at her with her mouth open. “I- I um…” She looked down at her lap, and picked at her nails. Her eyes started to water for a reason she couldn’t comprehend. “I don’t remember.”

Shae gave her a knowing smile and leaned over to place her elbows on her knees. “Maybe that’s the problem. You claim you love to dance, but you don’t do it for yourself anymore. This is something important to you and yet, you only do it for other people.”

She shifted in her seat, almost as if to try to shake off the weight of Shae’s words. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Doesn’t your mother’s company offer ballet classes? Maybe you can ask her if you can take some just for fun.” Shae shrugged. “You won’t get paid for it so it won’t clash with your non-compete. Think about it.” 

* * *

Just like every other meeting before, Theon picked her up and they went to get burgers. He would ask her how the session had gone, and if her responses were monosyllabic he would be kind enough not to push her. 

This time, she recounted her session in full. 

“Do you _want_ to dance?” Theon asked without even looking up from his burger.

“I…” She swirled her straw around her milkshake. “I can’t really do anything else. It’s not like I went to college or anything.”

Theon scrunched his eyebrows at her and waved her off. “Don’t think about it like that. It’s not about what else you could do, we can figure that out later if it’s necessary.” He inched forward and she gulped. “Do you want to be a ballerina, Sansa?”

No one had asked her that since she came back. It was like everyone, and especially her mother, assumed that that’s what she wanted to be.

“I- I don’t know.” Her eyes started watering and she dried up her tears before they had a chance to fall. “I remember a time when ballet felt like breathing. When I loved it so much that it felt like every second of the day was wasted unless I was doing ballet.” She looked out the window and took a deep breath, trying (and failing) to not make a fool out of herself in a public space. “I just haven’t felt that love in _such a long time_.”

She finally looked at him when he took her hand. His face was completely free of judgement; she could only see sympathy and understanding. He always just… understood her. “Maybe you should do what Shae said. Take some classes and dance without the pressure. And maybe without all the bullshite that it brought you before you’ll find that love for it again.” He squeezed her hand. “Or maybe you don’t, and you move on to another thing.”  
  
Sansa’s stomach tightened at the thought of what “another thing” would even be.

She gave a forced laugh and squeezed his hand once more before letting go, tucking it onto her lap. Her hand burned where their fingers had touched. “Thank you. And yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

Theon looked serious for a couple more seconds before he broke the tension with a grin. “See? I can be wise every once in a while.”

Sansa was about to let the subject drop when there was a question she couldn’t quite shake off. “Is that what happened with you and your music?”

Sansa knew she had hit a nerve when Theon went into his “extreme nonchalance” mode; he acted like that whenever he was talking about something personal or just plain uncomfortable. “Yeah, kind of. But it was different.” He shrugged. “I found my music again because I had nothing left. And finding a way to put my thoughts down… it helped.” He took a sip of his coke and shrugged again. “Despite what it may feel like… you still have a lot left Sansa. Trust me." 

She swirled her straw and bit her lip. Despite feeling like she had lost so much the moment she packed her bags and left Joffrey, she still wasn’t nearly as rock bottom as Theon was. It was hard for now and she had her family. Theon had been alone.

She reached over again to take his hand and squeeze it once. He looked up, his eyes filled with sincere emotion for a second before he shook it off and shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s been a while. Do you want my fries?”

Sansa pursed her lips and nodded, letting him drop the subject.

* * *

It had been a week since Shae had told her that and Sansa was finally taking her up on her suggestion. She was taking an advanced ballet class in her mother’s company, but thankfully, her mother wasn’t teaching it (she had _a lot_ of other things she had to do). A woman called Brienne was teaching it, who was one of her mother’s new directors. She was a tall woman that seemed to ooze authority. But unlike Cersei, there was no harshness to it. 

Sansa walked tentatively to the barre taking a place in the middle. She had dressed herself to perfection, wearing her favorite leotard and her favorite tights and her favorite leg warmers and she had braided her hair back in a french braid. But she was nervous. It felt… weird. 

For one, the girl in front of her had complimented her braid. Sansa had blinked in surprise before recovering and thanking her. The girl smiled and introduced herself as Missandei. She didn’t even ask why Sansa had braces. That one conversation with her was healthier than any interaction Sansa had had with all the ballerinas in the company. Like she said…weird.

She went through her class with that same weird feeling. In theory, she had done this thousands of times before. But doing it without the crushing weight of her expectations and dreams on her shoulders was… weird.

One thing she noticed was how rusty she was. She hadn’t danced in months and her lack of practice showed. Her technique was weaker and with not being able to eat solid food for so long Sansa had lost a lot of her strength. That’s why it shocked her to the core when Brienne complimented her attitude turns. 

When the class was over and everyone was packing up, Brienne called her over. 

Sansa bit her lip and adjusted the strap of her gym bag as she walked over to meet her in the corner. 

Brienne gave a brief look around the room before resting her eyes back on Sansa. “Look Sansa, your mother told me about your _circumstances_.”

“Oh.” Sansa shouldn’t have been as shocked as she was. _Of course_ , her mother would explain to Brienne why Sansa was in this class. It made sense. And yet Sansa was still surprised to hear her say those words out loud. 

“Yes, and I just wanted to let you know that after watching you today, I still think you have a chance to make it back to company level.”

“Really?”

Well, I’m not going to lie to you. Your technique is wavering a lot due to lack of strength and practice. You definitely need to strengthen your core. But I think with lots of dedication and practice–” Brienne eyes shined. “–you could be something _great_.”

Brienne lay a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Let me know if you want to go after it. Because you will have to _want it,_ Sansa. And if you decide you do, well I would be more than happy on doing individual lessons with you to let you get right back on track.” Brienne smiled slightly. “Just think about it." 

Sansa nodded and gave her a small smile back. She was completely thrown off by this entire conversation. Everyone just kept telling her to “think about it”. As if she didn’t have enough things to “think about.” It seems all she did lately was think, and think, and _think._

She turned back to leave the studio when someone else called her name. It was Missandei who was standing with another girl from the class with white blonde hair. 

Sansa walked over to them tentatively. “Hey.”

Missandei motioned to the girl next to her. “Sansa, this is Daenerys. Dany, this is Sansa.”

Sansa smiled and nodded in acknowledgement and the girl, Daenerys, did the same.

“We were thinking of going out for a drink. Want to come with?” Missandei asked. 

For what felt like the hundredth time that day, Sansa was shocked. Her last (and only) friend in the ballet world had been Margaery, and that was because they went to the Academy together. But in the company nobody ever asked her to do anything. No one was friends. 

Sansa quickly recovered. “Oh yeah, sure. Where?”

“Yeah, that’s what we were trying to figure out. We can’t go to our usual pub because _someone_ got us kicked out.” Missandei said with a pointed glare at Daenerys. 

Daenerys put her hands up in defence. “Okay, how many times do I have to say it’s not my fault! If someone wants to be that much of an ass when discussing politics they _deserve_ to have a broken nose.”

Missandei fondly rolled her eyes when Sansa got an idea. “Hey, I know a place. I haven’t been there for a while but one of my oldest friends runs it.” 

Missandei and Daenerys shared a look before shrugging. “Sounds good,” Danaerys said. “Do you need a ride?”

Sansa nodded with a smile. “Yes, please.”

* * *

Sansa uneasily walked into “Ironborn” with Danaerys and Missandei behind her. Sansa had gotten the address from Theon, and even though her and Yara had never been particularly close, she was a little bit excited (and anxious) to see the woman once more. 

She gave the pub a onceover, finding it to look exactly like she expected it to be, all dark corners that looked a bit grimy yet comfortable.

She looked towards the bar and found Yara pouring a man’s drink with a grin. Yara looked up and met Sansa’s eyes, and her face changed completely.

“Hey guys, I’ll be right back.” Sansa barely heard her friends’ okay’s before she made her way to the bar. Yara broke her gaze and busied herself with cleaning a cup with an old rag. 

Sansa leaned on the bar with her forearms and Yara glanced up at her once before resuming her work. “You’re back.”

“I am.”

Yara set the cup down and finally faced her. Her face was hard but Sansa saw something in her eyes (respect, maybe?), “Theon told me what happened.”

“I thought he would.”

Yara’s eyes searched her face, her own still revealing nothing. “I’ve always known you were a strong one, Stark. I just wished life hadn’t forced you to prove it.”

Sansa didn’t know what to say to that. She pursed her lips. “How about a drink?” 

Yara gave her one last look before nodding, a small smile playing at her lips. “I’ll make it on the house if you introduce me to that pretty blonde you came in with."

Sansa smiled. “Deal.”

* * *

Sansa had only known Missandei and Daenarys for two hours before deciding they were going to be great friends. 

They were good people, and it was so _refreshing_ to talk to people who didn’t know about Joffrey or the mess her life had become.

She had found out that Daenarys–or Dany–was getting a masters in Westerosi Politics, as well as interning in a media organization. She was working on an expose in the corruption in King’s Landing that Sansa found fascinating.

Missandei was working on a PhD in linguistics and she spoke _nineteen languages._ Sansa had almost spit out her drink. “Nineteen? How–I don’t even understand how someone could speak that many languages.”

Missandei laughed good-naturedly and shrugged. “I’ve always liked languages. I used to just study them for fun when I was younger. But what about you Sansa? What do you do?”

Sansa’s insides froze and she took a sip of her drink to stall. “I’m not really doing anything right now to be honest.”

“Oh.” Dany said, leaning her head on her head. “Well I’m just curious, have you ever considered doing anything with ballet? You’re _really_ good.”

Missandei nodded in agreement and Sansa shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I-I don’t know, I-I mean it’s complicated.”

Before she was forced to expand a familiar voice echoed in the background. “SANSA!”

Sansa turned with a frown before seeing Margaery, accompanied by a couple people Sansa had never seen before, waving at her. 

Sansa gave a laugh and waved back, noting how Margaery was already making her way towards her table. “Hi Marg,” She gave her friend a hug, “What are you doing here?”

Margaery shrugged. “Theon told us you would be here so we thought we would celebrate your first night out since you came back!” Sansa cursed inwardly. _Of course_ , Theon would tell the others she was going to be here. She shouldn’t have asked him for the address. “I was in rehearsal so I brought some of my friends from the company that I thought you’d like to meet.”

Sansa looked over Margaery’s shoulder to see who she had brought. They looked… nice. Sansa turned to the other occupants of the table and saw Missandei and Dany looking at Margaery curiously. “Oh right. This is my friend, Margaery–” Margaery winked, “–Marg, this is Missandei and Daenarys from my ballet class.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Dany said, her face lighting up with a polite smile.

“Nice to meet you too.” Margaery replied. She looked over her shoulder to wave her friends over. “This is Grey and this is Podrick. They’re the best out of my fellow soloists.”

The boys both smiled bashfully at the compliments, looking a little awkward.

“Wait, do you all work in the Winterfell Ballet company?” Missandei asked.

“Mhm,” Margaery nodded as if it were obvious. “I’m going to get us drinks.” 

“I’ll go with,” Dany said, getting up immediately. Sansa thought it was just another excuse to go flirt with Yara again. 

There was an awkward moment as the four that were left stared at each other. Grey was the first one to break the silence, starting up a conversation that Missandei soon picked up on.

Sansa shared an awkward look with Podrick and he gulped. “So… Margaery tells me you're Catelyn’s daughter.”

Sansa nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

“Cool. She also said you guys went to the Lion’s Academy together. Do you still dance?”

Sansa buried her nails into her palms. She was so tired of talking about that. “Would you excuse me for a second?” Sansa asked, maybe a little too brash considering Podrick probably meant no harm by the simple question but she was just too tired to care.

She left before he could answer and made her way out of the crowded pub. She considered sitting on the floor, but it had recently rained and she didn’t want to ruin her jeans. She saw Margaery’s car in the parking lot and walked over to sit on the hood. Sansa sighed and buried her head in her hands.

“You alright there, Stark?”

Sansa looked up and scowled when she saw Theon standing before her. She gave a huff and lowered her head back in her hands.

“Wow, hello to you too.”

She heard something skidding against metal as Theon took a seat beside her. “What’s wrong?”

Sansa let herself take one more deep breath before lifting her face from her hands to face him. “Why did you tell everyone I was here?”

Theon’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is that the problem? I’m sorry I just thought you’d want everyone on your first night out. It’s a big deal.”

“Yeah, well…” Sansa trailed off, the fight in her fading. “I-I don’t know. I was just trying to have _one night_ where I don’t have to be around people who know about Joffrey, or who want me to try and figure out what I want to do with my life. And now that’s gone.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” 

Sansa turned to face him and he looked genuinely regretful. “I know.” She sighed and turned away again, shifting to hug her legs against herself. “My ballet teacher wants to help me train and get into the Winterfell Ballet company when my non-compete is over.”

“Is that good?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet. I mean, class today was so…weird. I haven’t danced without Joffrey in so long and it felt…”

“It felt like what?” 

She turned to meet his eyes. “It felt _liberating_.”

Theon’s lips lifted into a small smile. “Yeah?”

Sansa returned his smile. “Yeah. I think I want to feel like that again.”

“So…what does that mean?”

She looked away and leaned her head on his shoulder. “It means that I think I want to take Brienne’s offer. I want to dance again. _For real._ ”

Theon’s arm came up to wrap around her shoulders and she inched closer to him. “Okay.”

* * *

“Look, I know that I’m supposed to be opening myself up for happiness and not locking myself in my room and watching Friends until the end of time but I just don’t know how?”

Shae tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Sansa tucked a strand behind her ear. “I mean that the only boyfriend I’ve ever had was an abusive piece of shit. I don’t know how to like… do normal relationships? Like going on dates and having someone who genuinely loves you and wants you around? Is that even a thing?” Sansa was rambling but whatever, wasn’t this what therapy was for? “I see my brother and Marg and Gendry and Arya and I think that rationally, _yes_ that does exist. But I’m… _Sansa_ and I’m not even sure if after everything… someone will be able to want me like that.” She buried her nails into her palms to prevent her eyes from watering at the truth of it. 

“What Joffrey did to you is not your fault, Sansa.”

Sansa gave a laugh and raised her eyebrows at Shae. That was such an unnecessary comment.“I know that.”

Shae didn’t seem to think it was funny and she leaned over on her seat, resting her arms on her legs. “It’s not your fault, Sansa.”

“I know.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Her breathing started to become more taxing. “ _I know_.”

“It’s not your fault.”

She shook her head and started to wipe tears before they fell. “You don’t need to do that. I know–" 

“It’s not your fault.”

“Shae–”

“It’s not your fault.”

Sansa couldn’t reply as she broke into sobs. She pushed her hands against her eyes as her body trembled. Shae had stopped speaking, her hand now resting on Sansa’s knee, but her voice still echoed in Sansa’s head.

_It’s not your fault._

_It’s not your fault._

_It’s not your fault._

Sansa _knew_ that. She had told herself that several times over the past couple years. Then why was she crying so much at the sound of finally hearing it out loud?

* * *

“Do you know what today is?”

Jon glanced up from his bowl of cereal. He looked completely alarmed at Sansa’s enthusiasm so early in the morning. “Um… Thursday…?”

“Nope.” Sansa was so excited that she was giving him a wide smile, flashing her braces.

“I…is it someone’s birthday?”

“Yeah, mine.”

“Really?”

“Nope.” 

“Okay. I give up. What is today, Sans?”

Her smile widened. “Today marks five months since I had the surgery which means I _finally_ get my braces off!”

Now this caught his attention. He smiled at his sister. “That’s great, Sansa!”

Sansa nodded excitedly. “I still have to wear a removable retainer for a little while but I don’t care! I can’t wait to get these blasted things off!”

“I’m happy for you, Sans.” 

“Today is a good day.”

And it was. Sansa got her fixed braces off and it felt like she had taken one more step towards healing. She smiled the entire day, flashing her newly free teeth in pride. 

Her parents took all of them out to celebrate and Sansa felt a little bit like she was fifteen all over again (her parents had all but thrown her a party when she got her braces off then) but she didn’t mind. This felt like a big step and she was glad once more that her family was there to see it.

* * *

Sansa rolled her neck and faced the mirror of the studio as she waited for the music to reach her. She had finished a class with Brienne half an hour ago, but had decided to stay a little longer to practice. 

She was trying to go over a simple routine that Brienne wanted her to practice to strengthen her core. It was proving a little difficult without a partner, but she tried her best to go through the choreography. She finished it in a pant with her head bowed.

A slow clap sounded behind her and Sansa looked over her shoulder to see Theon leaning against the doorway. “Stunning.” 

Sansa smiled and got down from pointe to face him. “Would be better with a partner.” She wasn’t ready to ask for that yet. She’d only had one _pas de deux_ partner in her entire life because Joffrey had refused to let her work with anyone else.

Theon shrugged. “Yeah, sorry. I would help but I have no idea how. Not a dancer at all.”

Sansa tilted her head. Maybe someone who was “not a dancer at all” was exactly what she needed. At the very least it would be entertaining. She offered him a hand. “I’ll teach you.”

Theon’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, no. I’m good, really.”

She laughed and walked over to him to grab his hand. “Come on. I just need you for this one move.”

He protested but let her drag him to the center of the room. She stood in front of him and turned her back to him. She made eye-contact with him in the mirror. He looked so terrified that she wanted to laugh. She reached behind her for his hands and guided him to her waist slowly. She watched his expression in the mirror throughout it all. She understood what he was so afraid of when she noticed how he was barely touching her: he didn’t want to hurt her.

“Hey.” She didn’t know why she was whispering. Maybe it’s because he was so close to her, his nose already almost grazing her hair. They met each other’s gaze in the mirror and she tried for her most reassuring smile. “It’s okay. You’re not going to hurt me.” Theon would never hurt her, it was one of the few things in life she knew with absolute certainty.

His adam's apple bobbed but eventually he nodded. His grip on her waist tightened, but still so gentle. Theon was _always_ gentle. She smiled to herself and gave him his directions. “Okay, so you hold on to me just like that while I do this.” She went into pointe and spun around to end up facing him. He was so close, their noses were almost grazing as she rested her hands on his shoulders. She had danced with Joffrey for years and even in the beginning of their relationship it had never felt so… intimate. 

“Okay.” Her voice had dropped even lower as she resisted the urge to close her eyes and close the small gap between them. With him this close she was engulfed by the smell of him. He smelled of cigarettes and sea salt and Sansa felt like she might faint. She gulped. “Now, you get on one knee.”

He took a couple breaths before slowly doing as she said. As he lowered himself to the ground, she bent down with him, always keeping the same distance between them as she went into an arabesque. Their noses were touching now as they held the position just breathing each other in. Almost as if her limbs had a mind of their own, Sansa’s hand drifted from it’s spot on his shoulder to hold his cheek. They both had their eyes closed now, and Sansa could hear the distinct hitch in Theon’s breath. 

_Holy fuck_. 

By the Old Gods and the new, she was in love with Theon Greyjoy. 

Maybe she always had been. She didn’t know when or how, but she knew in that moment that she loved Theon as much as she knew that the sky above her was blue.

And maybe, _just maybe_ , he might actually love her back too. 

Just as she was about to close the gap between them, his phone started to ring. 

They both jumped. Sansa stood up straight and he removed his hands from her body as if they’d been burned. 

He stood up as well and fished the phone from his pocket. “What is it, Robb?” He snapped, his eyes holding on to Sansa’s. 

She got down from pointe and put her hands on her hips. She tried to resist a sigh at the interruption. She had almost kissed Theon Greyjoy. She had almost _kissed_ Theon Greyjoy. She had _almost_ kissed Theon Greyjoy. 

“I um–” He snuck a look at Sansa before looking down at his feet. “–Yeah sure, I’ll be there in a second. See you soon.”

He hung up and tapped his phone against his other hand. When they made eye contact, his eyes were dark and with something like desire and regret that only filled Sansa’s stomach with hope. But his face changed in an instant, turning into something impassive and nonchalant that made the hope in Sansa’s stomach shrivel up and die. “I have to go. Robb has this new song he wants to start looking over and recording as soon as possible.”

Sansa looked down at her feet unable to keep eye contact. “Right.”

“Do you need a ride?”

She tucked a loose strand from her french braid behind her ear still looking anywhere but his eyes. “No, it’s fine. I want to practice some more and Marg can give me a ride.” A lie. Margaery had already left for the day.

“Okay. So I’ll see you later.”

“Mhm.”

Sansa turned her back on him facing the mirror forcing herself to focus on her technique instead of the man walking slowly out of the room.

* * *

“Arya?”

“Mmm.”

“I think I might be in love with Theon."

“Oh.”

The sisters were laying on the floor of the living room, under a blanket fort they had built a couple hours ago. Sansa had kicked everyone out of the house, claiming she and Arya needed a “girls night”. They had watched a movie of Sansa’s choosing–aka Bridget Jones Diary–and then watching a movie of Arya’s choosing–aka The Godfather. Now they were in the blanket fort eating a wide array of candies and chocolate when Sansa decided to spill what was weighing in her heart for weeks now.

Sansa didn’t dare to turn her head to face Arya. “ _Oh?_ That’s all you have to say?”

She heard some shuffling and guessed that Arya had shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean… it kind of makes sense. You guys have always had this… bond thingy.” 

“ _Bond thingy?_ ”

“Oh shut up, you know I’m not good with words.” Arya sighed. “And well, if he makes you happy then I say go for it.”

“Really?” Sansa whispered. She found herself feeling kind of nervous.

“Yeah. And I know what you’re thinking and you shouldn’t worry about what everyone else will think. We all just want you to be happy. Me, mum, dad, _all of us_. We love you, Sansa.” 

Sansa started to tear up and shifted so her head leaned against her sisters. “I love you too.” She grabbed Arya’s hand and squeezed. “I’m thankful everyday that I decided to come home.” 

Arya squeezed her hand in return. “Me too.”

They lay there for a moment, each of them basking in the comfort of the other one.

Arya cleared her throat and sat up. Sansa caught her sister hastily wiping her face but didn’t mention it. “I think we should watch a trashy Netflix movie and take a shot every time they say something stupid.” 

Sansa nodded with a smile. “Sounds good.”

* * *

“I want to tell you something because I need your advice but you can’t tell anyone, alright?” 

Sansa rolled her eyes. Robb was always so dramatic. “Fine, I won’t tell anyone. What is it?”

Robb pulled a face and fidgeted with the edges of his jacket. He spilled out the next sentence in a rush as he breathed out. “I want to propose to Marg and I need your help picking out a ring.”

Sansa’s jaw dropped. “You want to propose?” 

He seemed to have calmed down a bit now that he’d gotten it out. A smile creeped up on his face and he nodded. “Yeah, I want to propose.”

Sansa laughed and covered her face with her hands. “By the seven, Robb I can’t believe this! Congratulations!” She jumped forward to hug him and she could feel his laughter rumble against him.

“Well she hasn’t said yes so there’s not much to congratulate.”

She pulled apart to hold him by the shoulders. “Yes, there is. You’re thinking about _marrying_ her, Robb.” She reached up to pinch his cheeks. “You’re all grown up and ‘adulting’ now.” 

“Bugger off,” He said while knocking her hand off. But his smile indicated that he appreciated it. “Will you help me pick out a ring or not?”

Sansa grinned. She had missed so much of his life in the past couple years, but the fact that she got to be here for this… well it made it all just a little bit better. “I’d love to.”

They went to three different ring shops before finally founding a ring that they both thought Margaery would like. It was flashy but romantic, just like the girl who would wear it. They also discussed proposal plans and Sansa was amazed at how flustered Robb was getting. He was usually such a romantic and good at the whole “dramatic gestures” but he seemed so nervous about his proposal that he was completely blanking out. Sansa thought it was quite cute. 

But like the good sister she is, she helped him come up with something that she knew would make her best friend happy.

It all came together next week when everyone went ice-skating on the lake. And by everyone, she meant _everyone._ Her parents were there, as were Rickon and Shireen (who were skating together and holding hands and looking so cute it made Sansa’s heart burst). Gendry and Arya were also there racing each other around the lake like the athletic idiots they were. Sansa had invited Missandei, who had brought her new boyfriend Grey. Danaerys was also there, and she was chatting with Yara and _actually_ making that girl smile. Bran had opted not to come when Jojen convinced him to come anyway, and he spent the entire time pushing Bran around the ice in his wheelchair making the boy laugh maniacally. Sansa caught Jon trying to hold Ygritte’s hand, which she promptly responded by punching his arm and laughing when he tripped over. 

Sansa thought this was the perfect day to propose because Margaery _loved_ ice skating. Since she was from the warm south, skating on icy rivers were a new luxury to her. Sansa gave Robb the idea to skate with her until she was all happy and then he could take her for a walk in the forest nearby (where her, Arya and Jon had helped him decorate with battery charged fairy lights).

But Sansa was a little distracted from revelling in her brother and her best friend’s future happiness because she was trying to keep Theon from killing himself. That boy could not skate.

“I don’t understand how you’re still so terrible at this. We’ve been coming here for _years_.” She lurched forward to grab his arms when Theon started to trip up. She was skating backwards, trying to help him from falling on his face.

“Yes, well not all of us can have the perfect balance of Miss Ballerina over here.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Fine. If you don’t want my help then I can just–” She started to let go of him when he gripped her wrists tightly. 

She couldn’t help smirking at the scared look in his eyes which was quickly replaced by annoyance. “It’s not funny, Sansa.”

She gave up the pretense and laughed openly. “It’s kinda funny.” He leveled a look and she tamed her laughter. “Okay, look you’re just going too slowly. Here, just wait a second.” She kept her hold on his left hand and turned until she was skating beside him. He lurched to the side and she quickly got closer to straighten him up. She gradually started speeding up and he followed her, and eventually he started tripping up less and less.

“See? I told you, you’re getting better already?”

He rolled his eyes but she could tell he was pleased with himself. “I could go compete in the Winter Olympics.”

“You’d definitely win a gold medal.”

They both laughed. He was still gripping her gloved hand tightly but she didn’t complain (mostly because she felt like fireworks were shooting up and down her arm). 

“So are you going to tell me why Robb has been acting weird lately?”

Sansa tensed. Robb had wanted to tell Theon, but everyone had agreed that he was absolutely _terrible_ at keeping secrets. He would get all sweaty and weird until he eventually would spit it out by accident. 

Sansa surveyed the rink until her eyes rested on Robb and Margaery. They had stopped skating, and were now just standing at the edge of the ice, smiling with their arms around each other. He leaned down to kiss her and Sansa turned away. They really were disgustingly in love. Good for them. 

Sansa saw no harm in telling Theon now when Robb was half an hour away from proposing.

“Don’t get mad because while we really wanted to tell you, we just thought it was better to wait. Because you know you’re horrid at keeping secrets.” 

“Not off to a good start but okay.”

Sansa adjusted her beanie and pushed some of her hair off her shoulder. “Robb is going to propose to Margaery tonight.”

“Wait, _what_?” Theon tripped and this time, Sansa’s grip wasn’t strong enough to hold his balance, and he fell to the ice. 

Sansa stopped in her tracks to lean down next to him. “Are you alright?”

He sat up and brushed the ice off his gloves. He finally met her eyes and Sansa saw a variety of things: confusion, hurt, _betrayal_. “He’s marrying her?”

Sansa bit her lip and nodded. She moved to sit down next to him on the ice, ignoring how hard it felt under her arse. “He really _really_ wanted to tell you.”

“But he didn’t, _did he_?” 

Sansa looked down at her twisted hands on her lap. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just… this is big and I thought… I thought he would trust me with something like this.” 

Guilt bubbled in Sansa’s stomach. It had seemed like a sensible decision at the time but now it seemed cruel that Theon was the last to know. 

She reached out and took his hand. He looked down at their intertwined fingers. “I’m sorry. We should’ve told you. But hey–” She squeezed his hand and he turned to look at her, “–this is a _good thing_. Your best friend is getting married! That’s so cool.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He smiled at her for a second before looking away again. She could his jaw shifting and it suddenly hit her why he was getting so affected by this. Robb getting married meant that he was moving out. Theon was losing his roommate and his brother.

Before she could reassure him that he would never lose Robb, he tugged at her hand and started to stand up. “Come on, let’s skate.”

Sansa smiled and stood up as well. If he didn’t want to talk about it then she wasn’t going to push him. 

They had skated all of three meters when Arya skidded in front of them. Her silver film camera glinted in the sun as she brought it up. “Smile, idiots.”

Sansa smiled on instinct (she was still reeling from her braces coming off and showed off as much teeth as she could).

Arya dropped the camera and gave them a nod. She gave Sansa a look a little too knowing that made Sansa regret telling her about her feelings for Theon. “Cool. I’ll send you this after I’ve developed it.” 

And with one last wink that made Sansa want to die of embarrassment, the girl skated back out of their view. 

“D’youwannagetsumhotchocolate?” Sansa might’ve said that a little too fast and harsh if the look Theon gave her was any indication.

He nodded. “Sure.”

They skated around the lake until they reached the food stand. It was a white, wooden cart that always popped up around the holidays when the lake started freezing up.

“Hey Meera.”

“Hello Sansa. Theon. The usual?”

“Yes, please.” She rubbed her hands together trying to make them less stiff. “With extra marshmallows.”

“The same for me,” Theon added.

Meera nodded. “Right away.” 

Sansa dug in her pockets for her change and searched the lake for Robb and Margaery. She smiled when she realized they were gone.

She paid Meera and took her hot chocolate eagerly. She turned to Theon with a grin, “It’s happening.”

Theon scrunched his eyebrows before it hit him. His eyes snapped to the lake and after a couple seconds he started smiling as well. “Holy shite, he’s doing it.”

They took a seat on a bench nearby and drank their hot chocolates in comfortable silence.

Before long, a grinning Robb and Margaery had returned to the lake. Everyone seemed to stop skating and stared at them in anticipation. 

The couple shared a glance. Margaery turned to them all and raised her hand with a huge smile. “We’re engaged!”

Everyone burst into cheers and started to gather around the happy couple. Sansa grinned as well. She was just so happy for them that it hurt. She stood up and tossed her empty cup of hot chocolate in the trash. She turned to Theon who was still sitting down. She offered him her hand, “You coming?”

He hesitated for a moment, but then nodded with a smile and took her hand. They skated over hand in hand to offer their congratulations to their newly-engaged friends.

* * *

“Die, idiot, _die!_ ”

Theon pressed furiously down on the controller, a laughing Robb sitting next to him. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d done this: played video games just the two of them.

Robb had been engaged for a couple months now and had spent the vast majority of his time with Margaery planning their wedding. Margaery was going full-out (to the surprise of no one) and wanted to make sure her wedding was as perfect as could be. 

And Theon… well, Theon had spent a lot of time writing music. And he also spent a lot of time with Sansa. Oh, _Sansa_.

Theon had fooled himself into thinking he was over her but having her back in his life had become the best of blessings and the worst of curses. He had thought he had loved her before but he was wrong. What he had felt for her before was nothing compared to what he felt for her now. She was spectacular. Amazing. Kind. And so fucking strong. She was– 

“So when are you going to tell my sister you’re in love with her?”

Theon’s finger slipped and his mishap got himself killed. He dropped the controller and faced Robb whose eyes were still trained on the screen as he hammered down on his own controller. 

Fuck, had Theon said those things _out loud?_ “What?”

Robb shrugged and spared Theon a glance. “You heard me.”

“I mean don’t get me wrong Arya is a great girl but she’s like a little sister to me and frankly, _ew,_ and isn’t she dating Gendry–”

“Oh knock it off. You and I both know that I’m not talking about Arya.”

Theon sighed and sunk back into the sofa. Robb paused the game and threw his controller on the couch. 

“How did you find out?” 

“Well first off, I’m not a bloody idiot and you’re not exactly subtle. I’m pretty sure the only person who doesn’t know you love her is Sansa herself.” Robb sunk back into the sofa as well. “I’ve known for years, I just didn’t think it was any of my business.”

“What changed?”

Robb shrugged. “I started to think that she might love you too. But I figured you’re both idiots who wouldn’t do anything about it on your own.”

 _I started to think that she might love you too._ An impossibility. Theon had long accepted that his feelings for Sansa were unrequited. And yet… 

Theon scoffed. “You’re wrong. She doesn’t love me.” 

Robb rolled his eyes. “You’re such an idiot. _Of course she does._ Do you think I would be telling you this if I wasn’t absolutely sure? You think I would play with either of your feelings like that?” 

Theon didn’t reply and Robb eventually sighed and unpaused the game, leaving Theon to stew with his thoughts.

* * *

It was a particularly sunny day, considering it was still early April. Sansa had spent the entire day with her family, having a picnic in the clearing in the woods next to Godswood. It was such a beautiful day and it had to be enjoyed. 

Her mother and Margaery had spent most of it discussing wedding plans. Margaery’s wedding was a couple months away and they were still in the midst of planning. Sansa spent the day laying her head on Arya’s lap, reading her book. As much as she tried to be subtle, she kept stealing glances at Theon. It had been months since she realized her feelings for him and she had yet to make a move. Shae had told her that it was okay to be vulnerable, that other people weren’t Joffrey. And Gods she _knew_ that. Theon wasn’t Joffrey. But still… she was scared. 

When the sun started fading into the horizon, her parents decided to call it a day and all the kids decided to head to Yara’s pub. 

Sansa was happily nursing her drink when Arya came up next to her.

“What’s up?”

Arya’s face looked completely normal as she muttered the craziest sentence Sansa had ever heard her say. “Gendry and I are eloping and we were wondering if you wanted to come with us.”

Sansa’s jaw dropped and she almost let the drink slip from her hands. “You’re _what_?”

Arya smirked. “We’re _eloping_.” She said slowly as if to a child. She looked back at Gendry who was smiling by the door, playing with the keys in his hands. “I love him and looking at all the shite Robb and Margaery are going through with their wedding made us realize we don’t want all that fuss.” She shrugged and looked back at Sansa. Her face was so unusually open and…happy. “I just want to be married to him. And I want you to be there.” 

A wide smile crept up Sansa’s face. This was so Arya. Sansa could never _ever_ do this, but she wasn’t her sister. And she looked so happy. “When?”

Arya’s face brightened, clearly glad her sister wasn’t going to try and talk her out of it. She checked her watch. “5 minutes? Me and Gendry are driving ahead but you and any others can come right behind us.”

This was absolutely crazy. 

“Deal.”

They all squeezed in Jon’s van. Bran in the front seat, and Robb, Margaery and Rickon in the middle seats while Sansa and Theon were squished in the back. And even though Sansa was cramped and wearing a purple summer dress that was not meant for a cross-state one hour drive, looking at her family, at _Theon_ (who was busy smacking Robb on the head every time he said this was stupid) she felt there was no place she’d rather be. 

Arya hadn’t wanted to tell their parents. She claimed (with good reason in Sansa’s opinion) that her mother would try to talk her out of it. Arya said she would send them a text when they were already on their way.

Arya and Gendry had their ceremony in the tiniest, siliest chapel. Arya was in a random blue dress and had a candy Ring Pop as her wedding ring. Gendry had tacky pink glasses that lit up in flashes, and Arya laughed hard when he turned it on as she walked down the aisle. Sansa, as maid of honor, had a makeshift bouquet of fake flowers she had nicked from the reception outside. Sansa’s heart warmed as she saw her sister up at the altar. Arya deserved all the happiness she could get and Sansa could tell that Gendry was more than up for the task. 

As if Sansa couldn’t help it, her eyes drifted to Theon to where he was sitting in the front aisle on the old white benches. He caught her eye and Sansa felt so giddy with happiness that she felt free to be absolutely silly and instead of smiling like a normal person, she decided to stick out her tongue out at him. He laughed, promptly covering his mouth with his hand to muffle the noise. Sansa smiled before putting on a mask of mock-appalment. She shook her head at him as if she couldn’t believe he would cause such a disruption. He just raised a taunting brow and kept his hand over his mouth, his shoulders still shaking with laughter. Sansa dropped her mask and grinned at him. 

She wondered if someday she’d be brave enough to tell him she loved him. Because she did. She loved him so strongly that it consumed her. And it was so unlike her love for Joffrey. That love had felt like a sweet romance straight from a story book before turning into a horror movie. Her love for Theon felt so much more real. She didn’t love him because he was her “Prince Charming.” She loved him because he was flawed and even so he constantly tried to be the best man he could be. 

No, Theon was no Prince Charming. But Sansa was no longer a princess either.

Maybe if Sansa was as brave as her sister, they’d eventually get married as well. Maybe she and Theon would have a fairytale wedding like Robb and Margaery or a rushed but intimate affair like Gendry and Arya. Sansa thought that she wouldn’t really mind as long as Theon was at the end of the aisle waiting for her.

Years ago, Sansa would’ve balked at the idea of eloping. She would’ve called this entire ceremony tacky and cheap, and would’ve hated every second of it. But she had changed, and Sansa felt nothing but love in that run-down chapel looking at her sister kiss her new husband. 

Gendry and Arya had their wedding photo shoot at the hood of a car, Arya sucking on her Ring Pop looking so much like the badass she truly is. They all took really random photos with each other, ones that Sansa knew she would laugh at and cherish forever.

When Arya and Gendry hopped on their car to leave for their honeymoon (they had been suspiciously vague about their destination) they all stood there to wave them off. Sansa had her heels in her hand and she watched the sun setting in the distance as the car drove off. It looked like a scene straight off a low-budget indie movie.

Maybe it was the cheap champagne in her veins or the fact that this day had been a constant rush of happiness but Sansa leaned her head on Theon’s shoulder and muttered so only he could hear. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

“We’ll miss our ride,” He said back with an equally low voice. He leaned his head against her own. 

“We can get a train back. I don’t know… I just don’t want to go back yet.”

She wished she could explain this feeling better. This sensation in the bottom of her stomach that made her want to stay in this random ass town and avoid reality just a little bit longer. But it was Theon and she had forgotten she never had to explain herself to him. He always just _understood_.

“Hey, Robb. We’re gonna stay for a little while.”

Robb looked them up and down before nodding. He didn’t say anything else considering Sansa’s head was still on Theon’s shoulder and her hand was brushing his and all Sansa wanted to do was hold it tightly. Weird.

When Robb slid into Jon’s van, Sansa wrapped her fingers around Theon’s wrist. He instantly shifted his hand to intertwine their fingers. Sansa lifted her head from his shoulder and met his gaze. He didn’t say anything as he stared at her, a gaze that pierced her, _burned_ her. 

She squeezed his hand once before leading them towards a random souvenir store where she bought the cheapest flip flops she could find. She slipped into them easily with her heels still in her free hand. They kept walking on the road by the beach. Sansa looking out at the waves as they walked in comfortable silence. 

They walked and walked until they fell upon a small, light green gazebo. Some old soul songs were playing as a lot of elderly couples danced freely. Theon let go of Sansa’s hand to face her and offer it again. “May I have this dance?”

“You’re so cheesy.” Despite her words, Sansa took his hand with a wide smile and dropped her heels on the floor. 

He pulled her to the gazebo and tugged her tight to him. Her other hand rested on his shoulder and his settled on her lower back. With her flip flops they were now the same height and her nose brushed his cheek as they swayed. His hand shifted up her back to play with the ends of her hair and her eyes fluttered shut involuntarily. “This is such an honor. I can’t imagine how many others would be dying to dance with the best ballerina of their generation.”

She gave a huff of laughter in disbelief and answered in the same low tone. “That’s definitely not true.”

“Yeah, it is.” Sansa’s eyes fixated on the flowers intertwining on the gazebo’s roof and tried not to let the conviction in his voice get to her. “I don’t know shite about ballet, Sansa. But when I saw you on stage for the first time–” when she was fifteen and had done Lynna’s solo, the performance that got her into the academy “–you were perfect. I swear it was like you were made of water, every move was so light and effortless. I was enchanted.” A pause. Then Theon spoke in a voice so low that Sansa wouldn’t be able to hear if his mouth wasn’t so close to her ear. “I think that was when I fell in love with you.”

Sansa tensed, and with Theon’s hand at her lower back she was sure he could feel it. She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. Their noses barely grazing as they held each other’s stare. His eyes were bold and unashamed and had only a hint of fear at his confession. 

Theon loved her. He was _in love_ with her.

She closed the space between them in a second and pressed her lips against his. He responded immediately, letting go of her hand to bury his hand in her hair. An overwhelming feeling overcame her as she tugged him closer: a passion she hadn’t felt with anyone ever. She loved him. She loved him. _She loved him._ And yet, she still hadn’t told him so. A crazy little mishap that she just had to fix immediately.

She pulled apart just enough to whisper against his lips. “I love you too.” 

They were so close that she could feel the grin that grew on his face in response. “Are you sure?”

Sansa laughed and his grin only widened. She nodded and tugged at the hair at the base of his neck. “I’m extremely sure.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Okay now I’m starting to rethink–”

“Oh no no no. No take backs.” He pulled her back into a kiss. It was messy and uncontrolled because Sansa was still mid-laughter and Theon was still smiling like an idiot but it was the best kiss Sansa had ever had in her life.

* * *

“Have you ever written a song about me?”

Sansa could feel his muscles tense from where she was tracing patterns on his back. He had his head faced towards her, half his face concealed by his pillow. His eyes opened slowly. “Yeah.”

Sansa smiled. “Really? How many?” She couldn’t imagine anyone writing a song for her. She had never thought of herself much of a muse.

He laughed softly, his voice filled with early morning laziness. “ _Lots_ , Sans.”

Sansa’s eyes widened. “Can I hear one? Please?”

He held her gaze for a couple moments and didn’t say anything before leaning over his bed to grab his guitar. Sansa sat up, feeling anxious all of a sudden. What did he write about her? She tugged at the shirt she had stolen from him and waited for him to get settled.

Theon looked pretty nervous himself and it made her heart warm. “Okay, I wrote this one when you were in the hospital and I was waiting by your bed, praying you’d be okay.” He cleared his throat. “You ready?”

She nodded eagerly and he started to pluck the strings. 

He held her gaze, looking even more nervous than when he had kissed her, and started to sing. “ _I never meant to leave you there, a crown of roses in your hair along with everything you’ve ever feared._ ” 

Sansa held her breath when she realized what he was talking about. Her recital. When Theon had left her with Joffrey. 

_“And every step I see our face, and even though I'm miles away just close your eyes, and you can feel me here. And feel me here. Don't give up even when I'm gone, don't give up.”_

Sansa started to tear up and she couldn’t break her stare from him. He had loved her and cared for her for so long. 

_“From the grave I'll crawl through the pouring rain, for you. I would pay the cost to be in your arms again. The fire I would walk through for all the pain I caused you. Oh, I would pay the cost to be in your arms again.”_

She let him get through the rest of the song, feeling something inside of her heal slowly. When he played the last chords the pulled the guitar from his hands and set it neatly beside them before jumping on his lap and attacking him with a kiss. He didn’t seem to mind and responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around her to pull her closer.

How lucky was she to have found a man that loved and cared for her so unconditionally?

* * *

Sansa shut her eyes and pressed her palms against them until she saw stars. She was the last one in the dressing room as all other soloists had already left to go closer to the stage.

This was her first performance since she got hired to the Winterfell Ballet company. She had signed her contract the day her non-compete was over. Sansa remembered a time where she despised the idea of working at her mother’s company. Now Sansa couldn’t think of anything better than working so close to her family, friends, and _Theon_.

Her mother had assured her that she was ready for this. Brienne also told her that she had practiced enough and was good enough to step back into the professional ballet field. Sansa had believed them.

But now, just fifteen minutes before the show started Sansa felt anything but ready. Everyone in the audience would be judging her comeback, wondering if she was still as good as before. Some would know what she did to Joffrey and would judge her technique even harsher out of spite. Others would understand. Sansa wanted to hide from them _all_ . But she had talked to Shae about it. She replayed her assuring words in her head over and over again and it eased her anxieties a bit. _Don’t dance for them. Dance for_ **_you_ ** _._

It wasn’t just the audience that was making her shake in fear. It was the dance. She had been casted as Lyanna in Robert’s Rebellion. She was playing the part she’s been dreaming of since she was a child. Sansa thought that her mum and Brienne might’ve picked this ballet on purpose. She had always felt like she was _meant_ to play Lyanna. 

Sansa lifted her face from her hands to stare at herself in the mirror. She was in full make-up and costume. She sure _looked_ like she was Lyanna with her hair in the half updo and the characteristic flowy gown. But Sansa couldn’t control the anxiety that festered in her stomach telling her she couldn’t under any circumstances fuck up. She had been waiting for this her entire life and she would never forgive herself if she messed it up.

A knock sounded at the door breaking her from her thoughts. 

“Come in.”

Theon’s face popped in, giving her a feeling of deja-vu. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” She said with a smile, the anxiety in her stomach immediately diminishing into a low hum.

“I came to wish you good luck.” He came into full view and Sansa’s smile widened when she saw the winter rose and lemon cakes in his hands. “I thought these were basically a tradition at this point.”

She remembered the last time he had done this. When she was fifteen and on the brink of _really_ starting her ballet career. They had both lived and grown up a lot since then.

She stood up and took the gifts from his hands. “Thank you.” She stepped forwards and kissed him on the lips lightly. It was sweet and short but it still had Sansa smiling afterwards. They had been dating for a few months now and she was still amazed at how calm and happy he made her by just existing.

“How are you feeling?”

She could lie but she didn’t. She could never lie to Theon. She set the gifts at her spot near all her makeup. “I’m so nervous I think I might faint.”

“Why?” He asked. There was no judgement in his voice, just curiosity and concern.

“What if I fuck up in front of all these people? They’re all judging me, Theon and what if they’re right? What if I’m not good enough?”

“Stop.” His hand lifted to her cheek and she stopped her rambling to look at his eyes. He licked his lips and searched her face with his jaw set. “Don’t _ever_ wonder if you’re good enough again. You are good enough, Sansa. You’re actually so much more than that. You’re extraordinary, always have been and always will be.” She gulped, remembering the last time he had used that word to describe her. He had loved her then and he loved her now. 

His other hand came up to her other cheek. “You are a star, Sansa. You love ballet and it loves you too. This is your moment and don’t you ever let anyone take this from you. Not Joffrey, not those pricks out there, _no one_.”

Sansa nodded not breaking his gaze for even a second. “I won’t.”

The lights flickered three times: an indicator people should get to their seats.

“Shite, I need to get back. Don’t want to be shut out.” Theon looked at the door before looking back at Sansa. He gave her one last kiss and pulled apart to lean his forehead against hers. “You’re gonna be amazing, Sans.”

“Thank you.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you out there.” He started pulling from her and walking to the door. “I love you.”

She smiled. She still hadn’t gotten tired of hearing him say that. 

“I love you too.” He grinned at her (he still hadn’t gotten tired of hearing her say that either) and left.

She looked at herself in the mirror one last time, sighed and left as well.

She made her way to the right wing, where she would enter as Lyanna. She could see Margaery in the left wing, and the girl smiled and gave her a thumbs up in reassurance. The curtains were still closed but they should open any minute now. Margaery was the first one to enter as Princess Elia along with Grey who was playing Prince Rhaegar. Sansa thought the white wig looked actually quite good on him. It had been a while before she could trust a man to dance with her again. But Grey had been kind to her and understanding when she flinched the first time he put his hands on her waist in an attempt to carry her. She could see what Missandei saw in him.

Podrick was leaning against the wall behind her, closing his eyes (in anxiety or concentration Sansa didn’t know. Maybe both?). He was playing Robert and had also been especially kind to her when it was their turn to dance. 

The curtains opened and the audience applauded as the maestro sat back down in the orchestra pit. 

Sansa could see Margaery’s face screwed up in concentration as she focused on the music that started to play. She lifted her chin and walked on stage at her cue, her face already with a smile as she began her dance. Sansa always thought Margaery was a fantastic dancer. Sansa was always so focused on technique while Margaery was more focused on her artistry. But Margaery’s slight imperfections are what made her so eye-catching. 

Grey soon came on stage as well and they began their _pas de deux_. 

Other male dancers came in and they started “practicing” for the tourney. 

Podrick would come in soon and Sansa would then join him to perform a small dance together before they broke apart for her to perform her solo: the one that made Rhaegar fall in love with her. The one that she had performed when she was fifteen on this very same stage. The one that had set her on track to ruin her life; it led her to Joffrey. But it led her to Theon as well. 

She closed her eyes. _I am a star. This is my moment, and no one will take this from me._

Sansa opened her eyes [when her cue came](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YR5USHu6D6U) and walked on stage to join Podrick. Their dance went smoothly, they performed just like they practiced and Sansa’s smile turned brighter at the realization.

[The music shifted, turning into something even sweeter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cNQFB0TDfY) and Sansa walked slowly on pointe until she was front and center, marking the beginning of her solo.

_I am a star. This is my moment, and no one will take this from me._

She lifted her arm slowly in a move that was oh so very gentle. The dance started off slow, with moves that weren’t as advanced but make up for it by being heavy with emotion. Sansa went through the moves trying to feel as light and delicate as possible. 

When the music picked up into something darker, and Rhaegar started to circle her, Sansa felt something awaken in her, a feeling she had forgotten about completely. This is why she loved dancing. Why she had craved being on stage and had chased this her entire life. This was what she was born to do. 

Sansa danced through her entire solo feeling like she was made of sunshine. Who cared what others thought of her performance? She was proud of what she was doing and she knew she was destined to be there. 

Sansa felt like she was going to burst when she paused at the end for the applause. She held back her laughter when she heard Robb and Theon’s loud hollers, completely disregarding what Catelyn had lectured them about audience propriety. 

Her anxiety was gone now. All she felt was this pumping adrenaline coursing through her veins. _I am a star and this is my moment. I am a star and this is my moment. I am a star and this is my moment._

Sansa Stark was a star, and she had several moments (both as a soloist and then as a principal dancer). 

No one took them from her ever again.

_The End._


End file.
